“Just look at him!” cried George ecstatically, as now and again the hunter could be seen to stop and peer cautiously in the direction of his prey.
“I should think the fact that it hasn’t moved would make him suspicious,” remarked John.
“He thinks herons always act that way,” chuckled Fred. “I can hardly wait for him to shoot.”
“You follows nearly queered your whole game a couple of times all right,” said John. “We were both suspicious of you. Why, twice you had grins on your faces so long you could almost pin them in the back.”
“It was so funny,” laughed George. “To think how we planned the whole thing and how easily he fell into it. Why, it was almost too easy.”
“Don’t be too sure,” warned John. “He hasn’t fired yet, you know.”
“He will all right,” said Fred confidently. “The old bird has been dead for about a month and you just ought to smell it.”
“Won’t he be mad?” exclaimed George. This thought seemed to give him special pleasure.
“He’ll probably shoot us,” laughed Fred.
“Where is he now?” inquired John. “I don’t see him.”