"Go slow, Bob!" Thad called out, fearful lest his impulsive comrade dash up so close that in another instant the cat would be upon him, clawing, biting, and doing all manner of damage.
He swung his club in as ferocious a manner as he could, and made all sorts of threatening gestures as he rushed forward.
Thinking that if they approached from two separate quarters the beast might grow more or less confused, and possibly slink away, Thad did not follow directly in the track of his friend, but made a little detour.
Bob came to a pause. He was not more than a dozen feet away from the beast now, and there was danger that if he closed in any more the expected collision must take place.
Thad saw him draw his arm back. Undoubtedly Bob meant to hurl the heavy rock he had snatched up. If he missed his aim, he would then be entirely unprotected. But then Bob had pitched on a baseball team several seasons, and was said to have a very clever delivery, with the faculty of getting the ball over the rubber with clock-like precision. And a crouching wildcat, only a dozen feet away, is a large enough object to be counted a sure thing by an experienced ball player.
So even as Thad looked and wondered, he saw Bob let drive. And when the rock actually struck the cat between its glaring eyes, hurling it over backwards, Thad could not help letting out a yell.
"Good shot, Bob!" he cried. "Get another, quick, for he's coming after you like hot cakes!"
He himself was closing in on the cat all the time he shouted after this manner. In another moment they were all in a confused bunch, the enraged and wounded wildcat screaming and snarling; Thad pounding away every chance he got; Bob kicking wildly at the animal, as he looked for a chance to get hold of another stone; and the whole making quite a lively circus.
Several times Thad landed with such a will on the side of the springing wildcat that the wretched beast was knocked clean over. But with a desperation that was simply astonishing it would get together, and come flying back again, as though it really possessed the nine lives its tribe is given credit for.
Of course this could not last long. The game was too one-sided, with two against one; and in the end the cat was glad to jump into the bushes, with a parting expression of hatred in the form of a snarl.