At this very moment, Phil was cowering in the leaves in momentary fear of hearing the wildcat's scream closer at hand. An owl hooting mournfully near-by suddenly awakened Mary Lee who gave a little shriek of terror as she realized where she was. "I've been asleep in these dreadful lonely woods," she said. "How could I do it? Oh, Phil, what's that?" For again the cry of the wildcat sounded through the forest.
"Never mind, Mary Lee," said Phil. "Don't be scared. I'll take care of you."
"How can you," said Mary Lee, "a boy with not even a pistol? What can you do to a wildcat?"
"I'll fight it as long as I can," said Phil between set teeth, "and you could get away anyhow. Hark! What's that?" For there was a new sound in the woods that was neither cry of wildcat nor hoot of owl, but the honest and friendly bark of a dog.
Phil sprang to his feet.
"Is it—is it a wolf?" asked Mary Lee in trepidation.
"No sir-ee," cried Phil, excitedly. "It's a dog, a sure enough dog, and, if I am not much mistaken, it's old Trouble."
Mary Lee scrambled from her nest of leaves and joined Phil in calling. "Trouble, Trouble! Hyar! Hyar!"
There was a joyous yelp, a scampering over dead leaves and presently Trouble dashed out of the darkness toward them.