containing Toby's bobcat.

Perhaps Landy's heart was beating a regular tattoo as he found himself
actually compelled to pass under the tree itself, owing to the
narrowness of the channel at just that part of the runway. Elmer,
watching out of the tail of his eye, could see how pale the other had
become, and he was secretly amused.

It was just like Lil Artha, when their skiff was directly under the
suspected tree, to utter a low gasp, and proceed to elevate his gun in
a hurry, as though sighting the quarry.

Poor Landy came very near having a fit; he dropped the pole overboard
and fell backwards in the boat, which came near swamping. Toby, in the
other craft, succeeded in rescuing the floating pole before it had gone
completely beyond reach.

"Guess I was mistaken that time!" said Lil Artha, without cracking a
smile, although no doubt he must have been secretly chuckling at the
way the handler of the push-pole had shown alacrity in getting out of
range.

So Landy, with a sheepish grin, managed to get on his feet again, and
take the rescued pole from Toby's hands. He gave the tall scout a
sharp look as though suspecting that it had been a trick intended to
play upon his nerves. But then Landy was always a good-natured fellow,
and never bore anyone ill-will, no matter what the joke might be of
which he became the victim.

Toby could not be persuaded that he had not glimpsed a wildcat in that
tree under which they passed. He kept staring back as long as it was
possible to catch a view of its leafy branches.

"Well, say what you like," he concluded, "I did see _something_ whisk
out of sight up there; yes, and it had starey eyes in the bargain. If
it was a 'coon, then all I can say is they breed queer 'coons up in
this old Sassafras Swamp country. There now, that's about enough from
me."

"The afternoon is nearly half gone, and we haven't scared up our quarry
yet," advised Mark later on.

"Plenty of time, for there's another day coming," said Elmer. "We're
here to comb the swamp through from end to end but what we'll find
nobody knows. Keep listening, too. It might be possible we'd hear a
shout that would give us a clue."

"Say now, I hadn't thought of that before," admitted Toby. "If Hen
_is_ being treated harsh-like by that unknown who's got hold of him,
mebbe he might let out a yawp once in a while. There's no harm done in
listening, I reckon, and Landy here could tell if it was him giving
tongu