scented the youth, for it gave a savage cry as of defiance. Perhaps it thought that Dave was responsible in some way for the pain it was suffering.
The youth's hand was on the rocks and almost unconsciously it closed on a sharp stone about as big as his fist. Raising the stone, he took quick aim and threw it at the wildcat.
As my old readers know, Dave was a good baseball player and, at Oak Hall, had often filled the pitcher's box with credit. He threw the stone with accuracy and vigor, and it landed fairly and squarely on the head of the wildcat.
There was a weird screech, and the beast whirled around and around on the rocks, coming closer and closer to our hero. Once it clawed savagely at Dave, but he shoved the creature off before any damage was done. Then it fell down in a cleft of some rocks, where it snapped and snarled until Dave sent down a heavy boulder on top of it, thus ending its misery.
"Phew!" gasped the youth, after the excitement was over. "That was almost as bad as when we shot the mountain lioness!"
He had dropped the end of his torch, but now picked it up once more and commenced to move around as before. He proceeded blindly, not knowing in what direction to turn to reach the outer air.
"Where can the others be?" was a question
