d of his voice, the mountain lion paused, just outside the
entrance of the cave. Evidently he did not wish to become trapped in
such narrow quarters. He eyed Dave with glaring eyeballs, and showed his
gleaming teeth. His tail began to switch from side to side, and he
crouched low, as if contemplating a spring at the boy.

CHAPTER XXIII

IN THE MOUNTAIN CAVE

Dave had been in perilous situations before, and had learned the
important lesson that if he lost his wits all would be lost. The
mountain lion was large and powerful and evidently in full fighting
humor.

The youth was armed, carrying a pistol by Tom Dillon's orders. Now, as
he backed against the nearest rock, he drew the weapon and pointed it at
the beast.

The mountain lion crouched still lower and the tail of the creature
moved from side to side with greater swiftness. Dave felt that in
another second or two the beast would make a leap for him.

In the semi-darkness of the rocky defile he could see the lion but
indistinctly. But the two eyes were glaring at him and on one of these
he centered his aim as best he could.

As he pulled the trigger of the pistol the mountain lion jumped at him.
Crack! went the weapon, echoing loudly in that confined space. The
bullet missed the beast's head and buried itself in the shoulder. As
Dave fired he leaped to one side.

It was well that our hero made that move, otherwise the mountain lion
must have come down directly on top of him. As it was the beast fell at
his side, snarling and snapping fiercely, and turning in an effort to
ascertain what that thing was which was burning him in the shoulder.

Crack! the pistol sounded out again, and this time the mountain lion was
hit in the neck. Over and over he rolled, but got quickly to his feet,
and, wounded as he was, prepared for another spring at our hero.

Again Dave fired, but this time his aim was not so true, and the bullet,
grazing the lion's tail, struck a rock with a sharp click. Then the
savage creature hurled himself straight for Dave's breast.

Bang! bang! It was the double report from a huge, old-fashioned
horse-pistol that Tom Dillon carried. The old miner had come clattering
to the spot on horseback and with a single glance had taken in the
situation. The leap of the mountain lion was stayed, and with a final
snarl the beast rolled over and over, disappearing of a sudden into the
opening of the cave Dave had discovered.

"Are you hurt, lad?" as