Again they heard that suspicious rustling in the bushes ahead, this time louder than before. And quickly on the heels of this sound came a low, threatening growl that, strangely enough, made Bobolink chuckle softly, he was so pleased over having his announcement proven true to the Commodore of the motorboat fleet.
"Look out, Paul," he whispered; "he's laying for you in those bushes.
Better keep your gun handy, and be ready to give him Hail Columbia!"
Paul did not answer. He had his gun held in such a way that it could be fired with a second's warning. At the same time his left hand was gripping the little electric torch, with his thumb pressed against the trigger that would connect the battery, and send an intense ray of light wherever he pointed.
When he heard another rustle, and a growl even more vicious than before, he judged about the position of the sounds, and pointing the end of the torch straight ahead, pressed the button.
As the vivid flash followed Paul saw something that looked like a crouching panther staring at the dazzling glow of his torch—a hairy beast that had rather a square head, and a tail that was lashing to and fro, just as he had seen that of a domestic cat move with jerks, when a hostile dog approached too close to suit her ideas of safety.
CHAPTER XIX
LAYING PLANS
"Whee!"
That, of course, was Bobolink giving expression to his feelings when he too saw the crouching figure of the ugly beast in the pile of brush.
He fully expected that Paul would now feel it necessary to raise his gun to his shoulder, and fire, on the spur of the moment. Contrary to his belief, he found that the scout master did nothing of the sort. Instead, Paul took a deliberate step forward, straight toward the animal that lay there, staring at the blinding light.