f his coat, and jammed that in beside the rock.

The handkerchief was now nearly consumed, and when the last spark faded
away, the catamount came on more determinedly than ever. His yowls of
fury floated through the tunnel with dismal reverberations. He sniffed
and snorted, and began to tear at the obstacles that blocked the
crevice.

Brick shouted for help as he pulled the two remaining matches out of his
pocket. His nerveless fingers let them drop, and a hasty search of the
hard, stony ground proved futile.

Suddenly Brick felt a stinging sensation, and half of his shirt-sleeve
was ripped off his left arm. The catamount had thrust a paw through the
crevice.

Brick retreated as far as possible, wedging himself so tightly between
the rocks that he could scarcely move a limb. Here he crouched and
trembled. He knew that drops of warm blood were trickling down his arm,
but he felt no pain. He wondered why the boys did not come to his
rescue. Scarcely a foot away the catamount tore and scratched at the
barricade, pausing every now and then to utter a fearful screech. The
brute had doubtless been prowling about on the lake since the beginning
of the storm, and was ravenous with the pangs of hunger.

Suddenly a rattling noise told Brick that the slab of rock was loose,
and a moment later he heard it tumble in with a dull crash.

He gave himself up for lost.

Let us return, for a short time, to Hamp and Jerry.

Spurred on by mortal fear, they turned all the curves of the tunnel with
a speed and accuracy that they could scarcely have excelled by the light
of a lantern. Not until they tumbled breathlessly into the cabin, and
scraped a match, did they discover Brick's absence. Then the tumult of
sounds that rang out behind them told a plain tale.

"He's taken refuge in the storehouse," cried Jerry, "and the catamount
is trying to get at him."

"That's just it," echoed Hamp. "Come on, quick, or we'll be too late."

In three minutes--an eternity to poor Brick--they were crawling rapidly
back through the tunnel. Jerry had a rifle, and Hamp a double-barreled
shotgun loaded with big shot. From one side of Jerry's belt swung the
lantern, and in the other was thrust a bunch of pine boughs soaked in
oil. As the boys advanced, they heard Brick's cries for help, mingled
with the screeching of the catamount.

"So far he's safe," whispered Jerry. "I'll shoot first, and you be ready
to follow."

"I'll give the brute both barre