The beast was writhing in its last hold on life.

“That’s my panther, I told you!” said Bluff, jumping to his feet, and still holding on to his gun.

He was as white as a ghost, but a fire shone in his eyes telling of the spirit that had finally been aroused there.  Jerry would soon have to look to his laurels now.

Mr. Mabie laughed as he patted Bluff on the back.

“I reckon it is, youngster; but you took big chances that time.  I’d advise you to slow up a bit in the future, when shooting in the dark.  That impetuous nature will sure get you into more than one scrape, otherwise,” he said soberly.

Bluff hung his head.  He knew now that he had been too hasty, when there were so many older campaigners than himself around; but the loss of that elk had rankled in his heart, so that he could not resist the sudden temptation to redeem his reputation.

Jerry, for once, had nothing to say, at least to the successful one.  He bent over the dead panther, and examined it with curiosity.  Will was loudly lamenting the fact that once again he had found himself left in the lurch.

“You fellows move too fast,” he declared.  “Now, if Bluff hadn’t put in his oar, I was just about ready to shoot off a flashlight picture.  Just think what it would mean to see Reddy, here, banging that big cat over the head with his torch!  Oh! it’s just too mean for any use!  Everything goes wrong just when I’m going to squeeze my bulb, and get the best picture there ever was!  Even a rotten old log has to go and break off short—­”

“Hey, Will!  Let up on that whining, won’t you?” cried Jerry, just then, fearful lest his secret was about to come out.

Frank looked suspiciously at both his chums.  Perhaps he may have entertained a dim thought that there was something between them that they did not want known; but other things soon put this out of his mind for the time being.

“We must keep an eye out the rest of the time we’re here,” said Billy, after the company had settled down again around the fire.

“Why?” asked Bluff, looking up from admiring the sleek fur of his prize.

“The brutes often hunt in couples, you know.  This was the mother, just as I had an ijee, and she’s got half-grown cubs around somewhere.  If the mate’s near by he may give us a call sooner or later.”

Bluff’s hand had stolen out toward his gun at these words.

“Here!  No more of that, my lad!” said Mr. Mabie.  “You’ve had your fling, and come out of it mighty lucky.  Don’t try it again while I’m around, please.  If any more uninvited visitors drop in, you leave them to the rest of us.”

But there was no further alarm.  During the night some of them declared they heard strange cries off in the woods, which Mr. Mabie said must have been the whining of the panther cubs, looking in vain for their mother.

Frank was distressed.

“I hope they’re really big enough to forage for themselves.  If there’s anything I dislike it’s to shoot bird or beast that has young depending upon it.  Perhaps the old male may look after them,” he suggested.