“Where is it?” Jim asked.
“Down—down there in the field. It followed me and I threw the can at it.”
“Well, well, I wouldn’t be scared,” said Jim soothingly; “I reckon it isn’t anything worse than a dog.”
“Oh, but it is.” Elizabeth was regaining her courage. “I thought it was a dog at first, but I know it isn’t; I am sure it is a lynx.”
“By gum, you don’t say so,” returned Jim. “Run home, Bert, and tell your father to bring his gun. I haven’t mine at the shop and he’s the next nearest. We’ll see to this.”
Bert did not need a second bidding but was off like a shot, going full tilt up the road towards his own house. He shouted out his news to those he met on the way. “I say, there’s a big wild animal down in the hollow by the bridge; we’re going to shoot it.” We? Of course “we.” Should not the prowess of the father be shared by the son?
By the time Mr. Hollins with his rifle and his attendant squire, Bert, had arrived at the scene of action quite a crowd had gathered.
Elizabeth and Jim Powers were first on the ground, Elizabeth keeping very close to Jim and glancing fearfully around; for up to this time the animal had not been discovered. There was a great deal of excited talk, much beating around in the bushes, and some chaff.
“Don’t let it bite you, Bill,” said one big fellow to another who was on his knees, looking under the bars; and when Bill drew away his head suddenly there was a shout of laughter.
“Where do you suppose he’s got to?” said Jim. “How big was he, sissy?”