"Take care! There's a mad fox down here!"
"A what?" Addison cried.
"A fox that has run mad!" Kate repeated.
"Where is he?" Halstead cried.
"Running round in the thickets," Kate answered. "Look out, boys, or he'll bite you. That's the reason we didn't come home. We didn't dare leave the camp."
This was such a new kind of danger that for a few moments we were at a loss how to meet it. Tom looked about for a club.
"It's only a fox," he said. "I guess we can knock him over before he can bite us."
He and Addison went ahead with the club and the gun; Halstead and I, following close behind, held the lanterns high so that they could see what was in front of them. In this manner we moved down the brushy slope to the camp. The girls, who were peering out of the door, were certainly glad to see us.
"But where's your 'mad' fox?" we asked.
"He's round here somewhere. He really is," Kate protested earnestly. "We heard him only a little while ago."