The cartridges had kept dry in their waterproof chamber, and the slight disarrangement was quickly made right. The barrel was freed from most of the moisture, and the weapon was again ready for service. Jud had missed his two previous shots, but he was confident it could not happen again. The game was now his own.
Possibly the stag could not satisfy himself as to the identity of the youth, for after a prolonged stare he swung back his head and slouched off toward the woods. Jud raised his breech-loader and took careful aim at the head held so proudly aloft. The finger was pressing the trigger, when the rifle was lowered again.
“We’ll call it square; you’ve saved your life; you may go; good-by!”
A STRANGE CRAFT.
BY GEOFFREY RANDOLPH.
MY young friends Jim and Joe Allison are emphatic in declaring that they will never, never forget their adventure in Florida last summer. When you come to learn the particulars, I am sure you will take the same view of it that they do.