h was
literally jerked out of his body, but he hung on, with all the strength
that pulling the car had given him.

It was not much help, but it was a diversion. Jim gulped a lungful of
air, gathered his powers and came down with all his might. Slowly the
stubborn neck, bent--so slowly that Jim feared he would give out before
gaining the mastery. As it yielded, his leverage increased, and at last,
exerting every ounce of strength that was in him, he downed the foe and
held him there, his leg over the front legs whose armament he had felt
before, and was not desirous of feeling again.

But the deer gave up the struggle, and lay quiet, looking up with great
pleading eyes.

"Yes, you devil!" cried Jim, "you look meek enough now, but if you
weren't a handful of hard luck ten seconds ago I never ran across one.
You hurt, Ches?"

"I got a lovely t'ump on me smeller, but I'm in it yet--do I let go or
don't I?"

"Not on your life--wait a moment!" He worked his weight over on the
deer's body. "Now!" he said. "Quick! Jump loose!" Again the deer glanced
up reproachfully, as though to say, "How suspicious you are!"

The instant Ches jumped clear, so did Jim. They watched their late
antagonist, who sprang to his feet and went off with frisky leaps,
apparently as fresh as ever.

Then they looked at each other. Ches was rubbing his stomach with his
left hand, while he wiped the blood from his nose with the right. Jim's
coat and trousers were torn; he had a deep scratch across his chest, a
gouge in his leg, and he trembled from the exertion.

"Well--Ches!" he panted, "we've--had--a--nice--rest--haven't we?"

"Wouldn't it 'a' been tur'ble if yer hadn't caught him?" replied Ches.
And then they simply whooped.

A good incident is an opal among gems in a lonely life. You can turn it
over and over and always get new colors.

On the home trip, as Nimrod Jim stalked along with his follower trotting
beside, they rehearsed every detail of the unexpected encounter. Jim
crouched and leaped again, giving his sensations when the buck did
likewise. Then he waited while Ches ran down a side hill and threw
himself upon a sapling, which for the time was a deer's hind leg.

They were just of an age--any one would have said so, on seeing them
approach the cabin, arms flying, tongues wagging, bruised, tired and
happy.

"Jim," said a very sleepy little boy after supper, gorged like an
anaconda, "yer don't see t'ings like dat in N'york--not