"Oh, will they shoot my duck!" cried Freddie, in real tears.

"No, they're only making fun," said Bert. "You keep quiet and we will
get him all right."

By this time almost everyone in the car had joined in the duck hunt,
while the frightened little bird seemed about ready to surrender.
Downy had chosen the highest hanging lamps as his point of vantage,
and from there he attempted to ward off all attacks of the enemy. No
matter what was thrown at him he simply flew around the lamp.

As it was a warm day, chasing the duck was rather too vigorous
exercise to be enjoyable within the close confines of a poorly
ventilated car, but that bird had to be caught somehow.

"Oh, the net!" cried Bert, "that mosquito netting over there. We
could stretch it up and surely catch him."

This was a happy thought. The baby, of course, was awake and joined
in the excitement, so that her big white mosquito netting was readily
placed at the disposal of the duck hunters.

A boy named Will offered to help Bert.

"I'll hold one end here," said Will, "and you can stretch yours
opposite, so we will screen off half of the car, then when he comes
this way we can readily bag him."

Will was somewhat older than Bert, and had been used to hunting, so
that the present emergency was sport to him.