in his baby days?  No, he was no baby, but—­there it was, a low growl, coming nearer and nearer.  It flashed upon him in a second—­the hunters had scared up the animal, and it was coming toward him—­toward the light!  He felt faint, then sick; but it was no time to be sick!  He swallowed at the big lump in his throat and wondered if the animal really would attack him.  He could plainly hear the crunching in the snow now, and he fancied he saw two green eyes staring at him from the shadows.  Yes, and there were voices!  He could hear them laughing.  Suddenly a twig near him broke, and another and another.  He cried out in terror, shrill agonized, cries for help.  He dropped the candle in the snow.  Just how he got out of the hole where his feet were buried he could not tell.  He started to run, but his legs were still tied to the bag, and at the first step he fell headlong.  He was crying now—­great sobs shook his frame.  He tore the bag free with a jerk and started off as fast as the soft snow would let him, shouting “Help!” at the top of his voice.  He stumbled on through the snow, following the line of least resistance.  Finally he emerged from a dark thicket just in time to see three men and a great dog come out of an opposite thicket.  They laughed heartily as they turned upward on the trail.  The dog’s eyes were gleaming green in the half-light, and the one man carried a heavy rifle on his shoulder.  The dog turned, sniffed, then whined, but made no attempt to leave his masters.

The men had evidently not seen him.  He stood for a second irresolute, his teeth chattering, his heart pounding, then, turning, he saw the sparks from the cabin chimney and in another moment he was safe inside.

Back in the woods where Sleepy had been planted the rest of the fellows were shouting and laughing.

“Yes, I’ll take it back,” cried Ham.  “Sleepy can go when he gets started, but O my! what a lot it takes to start him!  I don’t believe he ever moved so fast before, do you?  Mr. Dean, you’re a wonder on the growling stunt—­I felt kind of queer myself once or twice.”  Fat was too far gone to express himself, but stood leaning against the rock, half-choked with laughter.  He had been behind the rock all the time, and had heard all that Sleepy said.

“I was dead sure I heard him laughing,” said Phil, “and I thought he had caught on to the game.”  “So did I,” said Mr. Dean.  “I certainly did hear some one laugh.”

“It must have been Fat trying to choke down his amusement,” dryly added Chuck.  “He couldn’t keep from laughing at a funny thing on a bet.”

“I am sure of one thing,” said Mr. Allen, “and that is that hereafter Sleepy will do his part.  I believe he has learned a lesson.  You will have a hard time, though, to ever persuade him that he didn’t see an animal.”

“Just let him think he did see it,” suggested Phil, “and we’ll tell him it serves him right.  If he hadn’t been so dead anxious to get the easy job, like he is with everything, he would never have gotten into the mess to-night.”