“I won’t,” laughed Grant. “It was awfully funny the way it turned out. I never suspected at first that the heron you pointed out to me was dead. I kept sneaking up as close as I dared and the thing never moved a bit and it began to strike me as sort of queer. Then I remembered how you fellows had snickered a couple of times and I felt pretty sure that something was wrong.
“All of a sudden I saw this bird just a few yards beyond the log. I knew then that my chance had come to turn the joke on you, but I was so anxious my arm was shaking like a leaf. I was afraid I surely would miss and when I saw that I hadn’t, I can tell you I felt pretty good. Here’s the heron and if you two fellows want yours you’ll find him down by that log. He smells a little strong though.”
“Let’s go back to camp,” exclaimed George.
“All right,” laughed Grant. “As long as you don’t like the subject, I won’t say too much about it.”
Laughing and joking they made their way back towards their camp. George and Fred realized how badly they had fared in their attempt to play a practical joke, but they were good sports and consequently good losers. They joined in the fun at their own expense, and were unstinted in their praise of the prize Grant had gained.
“We certainly got more than we were looking for that time,” said George laughingly. “You are——”
He suddenly ceased speaking and gazed in surprise in the direction of the tent.
“What’s the matter?” demanded John anxiously.
“Some man with a big black beard just ran around the other side of the tent,” exclaimed George.