summit of a distant ridge, where a small black object
was seen moving against the sky, "that's a deer, ain't
it?"
Joe shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly
at the object in question. "Ye're right, boy; and by
good luck we've got the wind of him. Cut in an' take
your chance now. There's a long strip o' wood as'll
let ye git close to him."
Before the sentence was well finished Dick and
Crusoe were off at full gallop. For a few hundred