run so fast before. Never had his mother set such a pace for him. Usually, when startled, she stopped after going a short distance and looked back to try to get a glimpse of whoever or whatever had alarmed her. To be sure, she always stopped in a good place, like the edge of Cedar Swamp, where she could duck out of sight if need be.

But this time Nimble's mother ran on and on without pausing.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" her son gasped after a while.

"Forgotten something? What do you mean?" she asked.

"Haven't you forgotten to stop?" Nimble inquired.

A queer look came over her face.

"I declare," she said, "I do believe I'd Have run all night if you hadn't reminded me." She fell into a walk. And neither of them said another word until they reached the swamp, which was one of his mother's favorite hiding places. Then Nimble spoke again.

"I waved my flag too," he said proudly.

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VIII

MRS. DEER EXPLAINS

For the first time in his life Nimble felt quite grown up. He forgot that he had not yet lived a whole summer. He had made a suggestion to his mother which she had promptly acted upon. It had never happened before. And that was enough to cause him great pleasure.

Then there was something else that made Nimble believe himself to be a person of some account: A strange affair had happened at the lake. He had seen it all. He had taken part in it himself. Really it was no wonder that he began to talk quite importantly.

"It was lucky I was with you," he remarked to his mother as they rested amid the tangle of Cedar Swamp.

"It was lucky we weren't any further out in the lake," she exclaimed. "If you hadn't been with me no doubt I'd have gone where the water was much deeper. And that light would have caught me before I could have reached the shore."

What his mother said made Nimble feel bigger than ever. He wasn't quite sure what had happened back there, where they had been surprised while eating water lilies. But he meant to find out, for he thought it would make a good story to tell his friends.

"Would the moon have burnt us if it had hit us?" he inquired.

"What in the world are you talking about?" his mother asked him.

He looked puzzled at her question.

"Wasn't that the moon that lit up the lake along the shore?" he demanded.

"Certainly not!" she replied.

"Didn't the moon fall into the water?" he asked.

"No, indeed!" his mother cried. She was astonished at his question.

Nimble was disappointed. He had thought he had a wonderful tale to tell. And he couldn't understand yet why everything wasn't as he had supposed.

"I was sure the moon fell into the lake and blew up," he explained. "What was that terrible noise we heard if it wasn't the moon bursting into pieces?"

His mother didn't laugh. Instead she was quite solemn as she answered Nimble's last question.

"That—" she said—"that was a gun that you heard. And the light that you saw came from a lantern in a boat."

It was very hard for Nimble to believe what she told him.

"I thought I heard a piece of the moon whistle past my head," he went on.

"A bullet!" his mother declared. As she spoke she moved a little distance, to a spot where the trees were not so thick. And she raised her nose towards the sky. "There!" she said. "There's the moon! It's still up there where you've always seen it."

Nimble looked; and at last he knew that his mother had made no mistake. But somehow he was more frightened than ever.

"Then—" he faltered—"then there must have been men in the boat—men that turned the light upon the shore—and fired the gun!"

"They were men—yes!" said his mother. "And they were lawbreakers, too. I hope the game warden will catch them at their tricks."

"What is a game warden?" Nimble asked her.

"He's a man," she answered. "He's a man that looks after all of us forest folk and he's the best friend we've got.... Goodness, child! Are you never going to stop asking questions?"

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IX

A SPIKE HORN

Nimble didn't mind losing his spots, when he grew older. He had something else that gave him much more pleasure than they ever had. He had a new toy. Or to be exact, he had two new toys. And everywhere he went he carried them with him.

He carried them on his head. And he couldn't have left them behind in the woods even if he had wanted to—at least not until he had enjoyed them for a whole season.

Of course you have already guessed that he had a pair of horns. They were not very big. But neither was Nimble, for that matter. So they suited him well. A little deer like him would have looked queer wearing great branching horns such as his father owned.

Nimble's horns were merely two spikes which stuck up out of the top of his head in a pert fashion.

It was a proud day for him when an old deer spoke to him and called him "young Spike Horn." About that time the forest folk had begun to speak of him as a "yearling." But there was something about "Spike Horn" that sounded much more important.

Somehow there was a new crop of Spike Horns that summer—Nimble's second summer. And every one of them had been—like him—a little spotted fawn the year before.

At first Nimble had thought it fun to use his new horns to jab anybody that happened to be with him. One day he even stole up behind his own mother and gave her a sharp prod with them.

He never did that again. His mother quickly taught him better. She wheeled and struck him smartly with her fore feet.

"There!" she cried. "That's the first time a child of mine has played that trick on me.... Let it be the last!"

And it was. Nimble was very careful, after that, to prod only those that didn't mind such pranks.

Luckily he soon found that the other Spike Horns liked the same sort of fun that he did. They were just as proud of their new horns as he was of his. And (sad to say!) there was a good deal of boasting among them. Each one declared that his own horns were the longest and strongest.

All the Spike Horns, including Nimble, were forever butting one another in play. And they had just discovered a new sport when Nimble met with what he feared, for a time, was a terrible accident.

Late in the fall, before the deep snows came, both his horns loosened and dropped off his head.

"Oh! oh!" he cried when he saw what had happened. "I'll never be able to take part in another mock battle again!" For the Spike Horns had had gay times pretending to fight one another in a most savage fashion.

After Nimble lost his horns he carefully avoided all his playmates. He didn't want the other Spike Horns to see him. At last, to his great dismay, one day he came face to face with one of them. They both tried to dodge out of sight. But the other, whose name was Dodger, was not