IN THE HANDS OF THE GUERRILLAS.
Our hero knew only too well how dangerous a wild cat can be, and as he gazed at the beast looking in through the open doorway of the lonely cabin his heart was filled with dread.
"A wild cat!" he muttered. "Scat! go away!" he yelled.
The sudden cry caused the beast to retreat a few steps, and for the instant Jack breathed easier. But then the beast approached once more.
"Go away! scat!" he repeated, but now the wild cat stood its ground, its eyes gleaming fiercely and its mouth half open, showing its sharp teeth. It was tremendously hungry, and this had caused it to find its way to the habitation.
"Go away, I say," repeated Jack, and then, as the wild cat took a noiseless step forward, he let out a scream: "Help! Help!"
The wild cat now prepared to leap upon him. It crouched low, shaking its short tail from side to side. The leap was about to be taken when, of a sudden, bang! went a gun, and the beast rolled over on its side.
"A good shot, Ben!" came in the voice of Columbus Washington. "I rackon ye killed him."
"Ben!" cried Jack, in great joy, as the face of the faithful old negro showed itself at the doorway. "You came in the nick of time!"