“They’ll have kept to the road unless they’re crazy. It’s nearly dark. You know that hollow just over the hill—hemlock. Stick by the old wall, you can’t fail to find it. That’s where I saw some does the other day. You go that way, and keep your eyes open for the crazies. And don’t forget to load.”

Darned if I ever heard Nick say so much in one breath, Old Pete thought as he started to go. He knew where the does were as well as Nick did.

“I’ll go up the other way. If the hunters are around, the buck will try to lead them off. There’s a half hour to go. And my guess is they may overstay their welcome.”

The two men disappeared like Indians into the shadowy trees, as soundless as ghosts. Nick breathed deeply the autumn earth smell, but he had to pay close attention to twigs underfoot and branches that stuck out and had to be lifted and crawled under. The woods were absolutely silent, told him nothing he needed to know. The crazies evidently knew enough to keep quiet, wherever they were. He felt his own breath like a roar in his chest and tried to subdue it, it sounded so loud. A twig snapped under his foot, and he jumped and nearly let his gun drop. Then he looked at his watch—just three minutes to go and whatever happened would be after five and outside the law. He stood absolutely still and listened. A beech leaf made a tiny flittering sound as it swung. It had been a dry fall.

Then, as loud as the silence had been a second before, there was a crackle and crash, the thud of hoofs, and two shots rang out. Nick plunged on into the hollow just over the crest from where he stood, and saw the doe stumble, struggle to her feet again; saw the blood on her right flank, and brought her down with a single shot to the heart.

“Pete!” he shouted. “Pete, where are you?”

“I don’t know who Pete is, but that’s my deer.” A stout man in a flashy red cap and shiny red jacket came panting up to where the doe lay.

“You wounded it, you butcher. And that doe goes to the warden.”

“Jack! Trigger! Where are you?” The man put his hands to his mouth and gave a yodel. He paid no attention to Nick, he was too excited.

“Coming!” A skinny young man with very black eyebrows came running, stumbled on a root and almost fell.

“Boy, you got it!” And he slapped the older man on the shoulder.

Just then Pete appeared, slow and silent, and stood beside Nick. “I saw it,” he whispered.