"Well, of all the dam-fool things I ever see sence God made me, this takes the cake!" he cried in disgust. "Why didn't ye shoot him?"
"Because he ran to me for help—how could I shoot him?"
Dennis sat down and roared:
"Well, of all the deer huntin', this beats me!"
The Boy rose, still holding the fawn in his arms.
"You can take the gun and go on. Boney and me'll go back home——"
"You ain't goin' ter carry that thing clean home, are you?"
"Yes, I am," was the quiet answer. "And I'll kill any dog that tries to hurt him."
Dennis was still laughing when he disappeared, Boney walking slowly at his heels.
He showed the fawn to his mother and told Sarah she could have him for a pet. The mother watched him with shining eyes while he built a pen and then lifted the still trembling wild thing inside.