around each
tree. Then the men and Baxter departed, taking with them several
heavy bundles which they had been carrying.

"That stuff they have must be from the houseboat," said Fred, when
he and Songbird were left alone in the forest. "They are going to
run off with it on the launch!"

"I reckon you are right." Songbird gave a groan. "Gosh! they tied my
wrists together so tightly the blood won't circulate!"

"They are first-class rascals, and Dan Baxter is as bad as any of
them," was the answer. "Isn't it strange that he should escape from
that swamp, and after losing his horse, too!"

After that the two prisoners listened intently and soon heard the
putt-putt of the gasoline launch, as the power was turned on. Gradually
the sound grew fainter and fainter.

"They are off!" sighed Fred. "Perhaps now we'll never see the launch
again!"

"This will make Harold Bird angry, Fred. First his pet dog and now
his new launch. He'll want to land those rascals in jail just as much
as we do."

Half an hour went by--the young prisoners thought it must be four
times that long,--and still nobody came near them. Each tried to free
himself from his bonds, but without avail. Fred cut one wrist and
Songbird scraped off the skin and that was all.

"It's no use," sighed the would-be poet. "We'll have to stay here
till the others get back."

"What fools we were to be deceived into thinking one of our party
was in trouble! I thought that cry for help didn't seem just right.
We walked right into the trap."

"I was afraid--My gracious me! Look!"

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?"