“What for? Rabbits?”
“If you can’t get anything bigger. But you might land a shot at a deer. ’Member what day this is? First of December! Law on deer goes off, and stays off till the fifteenth.”
“Oh!” said Sam. In the new interest he almost forgot, for an instant, that he had a grievance against the universe. But it was only for an instant. “But I wouldn’t have the luck to get a shot at a buck, or a doe, either. The crowd will have started out early, and scared every deer within ten miles of town,” he concluded pessimistically.
“Don’t be too sure of that.”
“’Tis sure!” Sam insisted. “Then what’ll I do for a gun?”
“Got your own, haven’t you?”
“What! Try for a deer with a ‘twenty-two’?”
“Why not? It’s big enough, if it gets to the right spot.”
Sam fell back to his second line of defense. “Well, there’ll be no deer anywhere near town.”
“Who says so?”