Part 7 (2/2)

”There he is!” cried Tom, and raised the pistol he had in his pocket.

There could be no mistake about those glaring eyes, and taking hasty aim, he fired.

The report of the firearm had not yet died away when there came the wild and unmistakable screech of a wounded bob cat--a wildcat well known in certain portions of our southern states. At the same time the dog began to bark furiously, and everybody on board the launch was aroused.

”What's the matter?”

”Who fired that shot?”

”Vos dose rascals here to fight mit us alretty?”

”It's a bob cat!” cried d.i.c.k. ”Tom just fired at it!”

”Look out, it's coming down!” yelled Tom, and that instant the bob cat, unable to support itself longer on the tree limb, fell with a snarl on the rubber covering of the launch, carrying it down upon those underneath.

The next few minutes things happened so rapidly that it is almost impossible to describe them. The bob cat rolled over and over, clawing at the rubber cloth and ripping it to shreds. The boys tried to get another shot, but did not dare to fire for fear of hitting each other.

But the dog leaped in and caught the bob cat by the back of the neck, and an instant later cat and canine went whirling over the side of the boat into the waters of the lake.

”They are overboard!” cried Sam.

”Make a light, somebody!” yelled Songbird. ”It isn't safe in the dark.”

The acetylene gas lamp of the launch was ready for use, and striking a match Harold Bird lit it. The sharp rays were turned on the water, and there dog and bob cat could be seen whirling around in a mad struggle for supremacy.

Bang! went d.i.c.k's pistol. He had taken quick but accurate aim, and the bob cat was. .h.i.t in the side. It went under with a yelp, letting go of the dog as it did so. Dandy gave a final nip and then turned and swam back to the launch and was helped aboard by his master.

”Wonder if the bob cat is dead?” asked Fred, in a voice that he tried in vain to steady.

”Hasn't come up again,” came laconically from Songbird. He had taken the lamp from Harold Bird and was sending the rays over the surface of the lake in several directions.

They watched for several minutes and then made out the dead form of the bob cat floating among the bushes on the opposite side of the little cove.

”Done for--and I am glad of it,” murmured Tom, and he wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead.

”I don't know if we are out of the woods or not,” said the owner of the launch. ”Where there is one bob cat there are often more.”

”In that case I think we had better move the boat away from the sh.o.r.e,” answered d.i.c.k. ”It may not be as comfortable as under the trees but it will be safer.”

At that moment the gas lamp began to flicker and die down.

”Here, give the lamp to me,” said the launch owner, and taking the lamp he shook it and tried to turn more water on the carbide. But the water would not run for some reason and a few seconds later the light went out.

In the darkness the boys started to untie the launch. As they did this they heard a movement in the tree directly over their heads and then came the cry of a bob cat calling its mate.

”There's another!” yelled Sam. ”Say, we had better get out as fast as we can!”

The gasoline launch was just shoved away from the tree limb when the bob cat above made a leap and landed on the bow of the craft! It glared a moment at the boys, its two eyes s.h.i.+ning like b.a.l.l.s of fire, and then started to make a leap.

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