"Have they? Let's go and shoot him."
"That will, probably, be a harder job than you anticipate," said Frank. "However, we will try."
After shutting the dogs up in the shop, the boys ran into the house, drew on their rubber coats, and started through the orchard, loading their guns as they went—putting an extra charge of powder and a couple of buck-shot into each barrel.
In a few moments they reached the fence that ran between the orchard and the meadow, and Archie inquired,
"What shall we do now?"
"We can't go much further," said Frank, drawing a flap of his coat over his gun, to protect it from the rain. "There isn't a stump, or even a tuft of grass, in the meadow large enough to cover us. Besides, if we undertake to climb over the fence, every crow will be out of sight in a moment; then good-by, owl."
"He wouldn't fly off, would he?"
"I should say he would," answered Frank, with a laugh. "He'd leave like a streak of lightning."
"That's news to me. I always thought owls couldn't see in the day-time. Natural history says so."
"I know it," said Frank. "But there is one thing certain: they must be able to see a little, or else their sense of smell or hearing is very acute for it is very difficult to get a shot at them, even in the day-time. That one in our museum led me a chase of half a day before I shot him, and I had a rifle, too."