"It's a shame to shoot him," Jack replied. "But we've got to have the meat so let's get it over with."
Raising their rifles they took careful aim and both fired at the same time. The deer fell in its tracks and never moved.
"He had an easy death at any rate," Bob said as they went toward it.
"He's too big to carry in whole so we'll have to cut him up here."
Both boys knew how to dress a deer as they had many times hunted in the Maine woods and, in the course of an hour, they had selected the choicest pieces and hung the rest well up in the branches of a tree where it would be out of the reach of the wolves.
"So far so good," Jack said as they were fixing the meat so that they could fasten it to their backs. "Now if we get back all right and find that Lucky has returned without stuff—"
"Hold on there," Bob interrupted. "Don't tempt providence too far with your ifs."
"Well, there's nothing like being optimistic as I've heard you say many a time."
"Up to a certain point."
"And I reckon you think I'd reached that point," Jack laughed.