“Oh, Hal!” gasped Frank. “There’s a man back there, and he’s dead!”
“A man! Dead!”
It was Hal’s turn to gasp.
“Yes,” replied Frank. “We lit some matches and saw him.”
“There’s a gun back there, too,” continued Fes, and Hal interrupted him eagerly.
“Is that so?” he exclaimed. “Bun, you and Bad stay here and watch, while Fes and I go and have a look. If the panther comes back, holler to me, but don’t shut the door unless he comes too close.”
With these instructions, Hal entered the cave, followed by the trembling Ferdinand. He struck a match to light his way, and held another to substitute as soon as the first should burn out. The hole in the wall was an ordinary cave, eight feet wide beyond the narrow entrance, six or seven feet from floor to ceiling, and fifteen feet deep.
At the farther end, Hal discovered evidences that the place had been used as a living room. There was no table and no chair, but he found a lantern, a pine box, a gun, some blankets and several articles of clothing. On the blankets lay the form of a man. His clothes were torn and his face was mangled. Evidently he had been attacked by some wild animal, perhaps the mountain lion. The man must have been dead for two or three days.
Realizing that no more time should be spent in this place, Hal picked up the rifle which leaned against the wall, and returned to the entrance. There he examined the weapon, which was a Winchester. He pulled down the lever, which opened the chamber and disclosed five cartridges resting in the magazine. At the same time an empty shell flew out, and as he threw back the lever a fresh cartridge slipped into its place.
“Come on, fellows,” said Hal, starting for the entrance. “If the panther comes too close, I’ll shoot ’im. But I don’t think he’ll bother us.”