“I feel as if something were going to happen,” he confided to the tree, seating himself in a crotch formed by a limb extending out from the main body of the tree, then parting the foliage for a better view.  “It’s funny how a fellow feels about these things some times.  Hello, there, I actually believe those are deer running yonder.  Or maybe they’re cows,” added Stacy.  “Anyhow I couldn’t shoot them, whichever they are, so I won’t get excited over them.”

Chunky fixed his eyes on the opposite side of the tree a little above where he was perched.

“I thought I saw something move there.   Hello, I hear the hounds again. 
They’ve surely gotten on track of something.   And-----”

Once more the fat boy paused.  He saw something yellow lying along a limb of the tree, something at first sight that he took to be a snake.  But he knew of no snakes that had fur on their bodies.  The round, furry thing that he thought might be a snake at first now began whipping up and down on the limb, curling at its end, twisting, performing strange antics.

What could it mean?  Stacy parted the foliage a little more, then once again, as had been the case on the previous day, his eyes opened wide.

He saw now what was at the other end of the snake-like appendage.  And seeing he understood that he was in a predicament.  But Chunky’s voice failed him.

There on the opposite limb of the tree, less than ten feet away, crouched the biggest mountain lion Stacy Brown ever had seen.  And it grew larger with the seconds.  The beast was working its tail, its whiskers bristled, its eyes shone like points of steel.  It seemed as if the beast were trying to decide whether to attack the boy within such easy reach or to leap to the ground and flee.  The deep baying of the dogs in the distance evidently decided the cat against the latter plan.  Then, too, perhaps the howls that Chunky now emitted had something to do with the former question.

Tad Butler, stretched out on the ground, found himself standing bolt upright as if he had been propelled to that position by a spring.  The most unearthly howls he had ever heard broke upon the mountain stillness.

“Wow!  Ow-wow-wow!  Tad!  Help, help, help!  Quick!”

Tad was off like a shot himself, not even pausing to snatch up his gun which lay so near at hand.  And how he did run!

“Where, Chunky?  Where are you?  Shout quick!”

“Wow!  Ow-wow-wow!” was the only answer Stacy Brown could make, but the sound of his voice unerringly guided Tad to the location.  But Stacy could not be found.

“In the name of-----”

“Wow!  Ow-wow-wow!” howled the agonized voice of the fat boy from the branches of the pinyon tree.

Tad peered up between the branches.  He saw Stacy looking down upon him with panic stricken gaze.

“For the love of goodness, what’s the matter, Stacy?  You nearly frightened me to death.”