Then a sudden thought came into his mind.  It was like an inspiration, and made Jerry laugh right out.  Why, of course his gun, what was he gripping it all this time so desperately for if not because he believed it worth while.

He tried to remember whether he had fired one shot or two after reloading it.  So confused had he become with all this turning round and round that he could not be absolutely sure.  But there was nothing for him to do but take chances.

He felt to see if one of the hammers might be up, and found the left one drawn back.  That seemed promising, for if he had fired both barrels the hammers must naturally be down.

It might be only imagination, but he believed he could actually feel the hot breath of the pursuing beast on his legs as he twisted around that tree so awkwardly.  With a prayer in his heart, though his lips were mute, he suddenly whirled, thrust out the gun, and pulled the trigger.

Fortune was certainly with him that day.  The dog viciously seized hold of the gun barrel in his teeth; and it was just at this instant that Jerry pressed the trigger.

He saw the big beast swirl half-way around.  Then he fell in a quivering heap.

“Hurrah!”

It was but a pitiful shout poor Jerry gave, for he was quite out of breath.  He, too, fell down in a heap close to the yellow form of his enemy; but instinctively his hands worked, trying to place his faithful gun in readiness for further work.

It was not needed.

Besides the big yellow leader of the wild pack, he presently found a second brute stone dead; and had the pleasure of dispatching both the others shortly after.

“Might as well make a clean sweep of it,” he said, with a feeling of having accomplished something worth while; for Jesse had told him these roving dogs were just as destructive to sheep and other domestic animals as so many timber wolves would have been.

Perhaps the farmers of the community might feel like voting Jerry thanks for his good service of that day.  And not knowing whether he could find the place again he proceeded to cut off the four caudal appendages, “to embellish his tale,” as Frank later on declared with a laugh.

“Guess I’ve had quite enough sport for to-day,” Jerry remarked, as he bent over the mutilated deer; “there’s quite as much meat here as I can carry home.  In fact, I’ve a good mind to hang most of it up out of reach of wild animals.  We could come for it another time.  From the looks of the sky that storm Jesse spoke about must be coming right along.”

So he determined to make haste.  While something of a novice at the art of cutting up a deer, he had a general inkling as to how it should be done.  Accordingly, after half an hour’s work he managed to swing the better part of the meat, fastened up in the skin, to a limb that he made sure was sound.

“Now for home with my trophies.  Say, perhaps the boys won’t open their eyes when I show these four tails, and get Toby to cook some of my venison!  This has been a red letter day in my calendar.  What was that—­thunder, I do believe.  Perhaps—­”