"Ned! Oh, Ned!"
Louder this time, but still silence.
"Hey, Ned! Are you ever going to wake up! Get your gun! Your gun! Shoot this beast! Ned! Ned!"
Tom waited. It seemed as if the beast was nearer to him. He called once more.
"Ned! Ned!" He was fairly shouting now. Surely some one must hear him.
"What's that? What's the matter? Tom? Where are you?"
It was Ned's voice—a sleepy voice—and it came from the interior of the tent.
"Here!" called Tom. "Out in front—by the fire—get your gun, and get him with the first shot, or it's all up with yours truly."
"Get who with the first shot. Who are you talking about?"
"This cougar! Hurry Ned, he's creeping nearer!"
Tom heard a movement behind him. He dared not turn his head, but he knew it was his chum. Then he heard a gasp and he knew that Ned had seen the beast. Then all Tom could do was to wait. And it was not easy waiting. At any moment the beast might spring, and, as far as he was concerned it would be all over.
