“Then it couldn’t have been a human thief, for you’d never say that.  Did you see the critter go?” came from Jerry, as he peered forth, gun in hand.

“I fired high on purpose, for I was afraid it might be poor old George sneaking back to see if he could get away with any more of that fine bacon.  Whatever it was, it made a flying leap back into the shadows.  I thought I heard an angry or startled snarl, but you fellows made so much confusion as you bounced up that I couldn’t be sure.”

“Jumped away, eh?  Then I take it the thing must have been a bobcat,” said Jerry.

“Something along the cat family, anyway,” replied Frank.

“Look here!  You don’t mean to say it was—­a panther?” demanded the other.

“I’m not saying anything; but in the morning we’ll go and take a look at the ground behind that second log over there.  If there are any tracks, they ought to tell the story,” remarked Frank, who, no matter how positive he might feel that this was just what he had seen, would not commit himself without some proof.

“That’s what I get for waking Frank up so soon.  Oh! why didn’t I hold out a little while longer?  Nothing ever happens when I’m on duty, it seems.  I must be a Jonah, that’s what!” sighed Will disconsolately.

“Why, what would you have done?” demanded Bluff.

“Shot the intruder, but by snapping the trigger of my little flashlight pistol, and in that way I’d have taken a picture of the beast as it crouched there.  I sat here, holding that pistol, and my camera, ready, for two mortal hours, in vain.  I’m the most unlucky dog going.”

“Well, I notice that, after all, you manage to gather in your share of pictures.  The trouble is, you want to corral everything going.  Well, me to the bench again for another snooze.  Wake me when you get tired of sitting up, Frank.  If the critter comes again, let him have a charge,” said Jerry.

“I certainly will, if I can make sure that it doesn’t happen to be a man,” was the reply of Frank.

Apparently, the report of the shotgun had alarmed the beast, for he certainly did not show himself again.  Whatever it was, the attractive smell around the vicinity of the campfire must have drawn him out of the neighboring swamp, just as it had Black George, earlier in the night.

Both Jerry and Bluff took their turns, and in this way daylight found them undisturbed.  Jerry had left his shotgun at home, and carried a rifle on this trip.  He and Bluff had entered into many an argument because this new weapon was a six-shot gun; for Jerry had made all manner of fun over Bluff owning a shotgun built after the same principle, nor could they settle the dispute, Jerry claiming that it was all right in a rifle, as a man hunted big game with that, and his life might be in danger; while with the other weapon he usually only shot birds and inoffensive small animals; while Bluff declared that what was black for the pot was also black for the kettle.