As the shotgun blazed forth the wildcat leaped to another branch of the tree. This brought the beast in full view of where Gif and Jack were standing. Simultaneously both boys raised their weapons and blazed away.
“He’s struck! He’s struck!” cried Randy, and as he uttered the words the wildcat came tumbling down out of the tree into some brushwood. Here the beast thrashed around for an instant and then crouched low as if for a leap at the boys.
“Look out!” yelled Jack. “He’s going to spring!”
Then with a spitting snarl the wildcat made a leap. But as it did so the small rifle Fred carried spoke up and a bullet went straight through its head, killing it almost instantly.
“Is he dead?” questioned Randy, after the wildcat had fallen quiveringly on the dead leaves of the forest.
“I guess so,” answered Fred. “But don’t go too near, he may be only wounded.”
All of the boys had been taught to load up immediately after firing, and now their first attention was given to their weapons.
“How about it? Did you hit him?” questioned Andy.
“Yes. He’s as dead as a doornail,” announced Gif, after a gingerly examination.