tree-tops and came to rest in the tallest pine, the boy realized that Ringtail had tightened his muscles for the leap.
Chad made his decision instantly. The big gobbler had come. He stood on the high limb upon which he had just alighted, peering all around him with bright, suspicious eyes. This was the moment for a shot—a shot which would surely bring him down. Again Chad's hand tightened on his gun—and again it rested there inactive, motionless.
Once more the woodsman in him had triumphed over the gunner. The gobbler could wait. Above all else Chad was determined to watch to the end the little drama of the woods which Ringtail was about to bring to a climax.
A moment he saw the fox poise himself on the creek-bank, his ears cocked forward now, his body half-raised on his slim, wiry legs, his furry, faintly barred tail twisted a little to the side. Then, like a flash, he bounded over the rim of the bank and vanished.
Chad heard no splash of water as he had expected. Instead came a whirring tumult of wings, as three wood ducks catapulted upward from the creek and sped away through the trees, crying shrilly. Simultaneously Chad leaped to his feet and whipped his gun to his shoulder, the muzzle
