"Hul-lo!" murmured Uncle Jabez, looking up.
"That poor boy's delirious," declared Aunt Alvirah.
But Ruth jumped up and ran lightly to the room where Jerry Sheming lay.
"What is it?" she gasped, peering at the flushed face that was raised from the pillow.
"That cat!" muttered Jerry.
"Oh, you're dreaming!" declared Ruth, trying to laugh.
"I ain't lived in the woods for nothin'," snapped the young fellow. "I never see that black panther in her native wilds, o' course; but I've tracked other kinds o' cats. And one of the tribe is 'round here——There! hear that?"
One of the horses in the stable squealed suddenly—a scream of fear. Then a cow bellowed.
Uncle Jabez came with a rush, in his stocking feet, with the heavy shotgun in his hand.
"What's up?" he demanded, hoarsely.