Part 12 (2/2)
At this exclamation both boys looked into the forest they were facing and there they saw a sight that almost made the blood freeze in their veins. Crouching down between some bushes was a bob cat larger than either of those that had been killed the night before.
”Oh!” cried Songbird. ”Scat!”
At the cry the bob cat turned and disappeared into the bushes like a flash. But then they heard it leap into a tree, and the rustling of the branches told them only too plainly that it was approaching closer and closer.
”This is--is awful!” groaned Fred. ”It will surely pounce down and tear us to pieces. Help! help, somebody! Help!”
Songbird joined in the cry and the forest rang loudly with the sounds of their voices. Then they stopped to get their breath.
”I see him--he is almost over our heads!” gasped Songbird. ”Help!
Help!” he yelled, at the top of his lungs.
”What's the trouble?” came from close at hand, and d.i.c.k Rover burst into view, with Tom and Sam at his heels and each with his revolver drawn. Not far behind were Hans and Harold Bird.
”A bob cat! Look out for him!” cried Fred.
”Protect us!” put in Songbird. ”We are helpless!”
”See, they are tied to the trees!” exclaimed Tom. ”What does this mean?”
”I see the bob cat!” said Sam Rover, and without ado fired up into the tree. Down came the beast, spitting viciously and clawing the air, to fall at Tom's feet. Bang! went Tom's pistol and then all of the others fired, and almost as quick as I can tell it the beast lay dead where it had fallen. Then the boys looked around for other bob cats, but none showed themselves.
”Oh, how thankful I am that you came,” said Fred, as he was being released.
”And you didn't arrive a minute too soon either,” said Songbird.
”That bob cat was getting ready to spring on us! It was a narrow escape!”
”Who made you prisoners?” asked d.i.c.k. ”But I suppose it was that Gasper Pold and his tools.”
”Yes, and who do you think his tools are?” answered Fred.--”Solly Jackson, Sack Todd--”
”Sack Todd!” exclaimed Sam.
”Yes, and Dan Baxter.”
”Baxter!” came from the others.
”The young rascal you told me about?” said Harold Bird.
”Exactly, and all of them have run away with your launch,” put in Songbird. ”They went quite a while ago.”
”I was afraid of it,” answered the young Southerner. ”Of course they must have steered for Lake Sico.”
”Yes, and as they have had a good start, they must be a long way off by now,” added Tom.
CHAPTER X
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