"If you're going to split straws about it," said McKinstry, "the ghost didn't tell him he would be killed there. He got his death wound, at any rate; that was near enough. A good deal better guess than you could make. Between the yelling of that bob-cat and Hector's grisly story, we're likely to have a good night's sleep. I think we'd better frighten the ghosts off, and then turn in."
In the morning, Hector, Amos, and I wanted to go to the traps at once to examine them; but Martin said, "It may be hours before we get back, and if you were to start without your breakfast, you might be calling yourselves pretty hard names later in the day."
We cooked breakfast, and after we had eaten it, took our guns, and went to the pond. Our first trap was gone; but there was a big trail where the clog had been dragged through the snow and bushes.
We followed it for nearly half a mile, till Martin stopped us and said, "There he is."
THEY KILL A BOB-CAT
We looked into a clump of bushes, and saw a pair of fierce blue eyes, which looked like polished steel. As we gazed, they seemed to grow larger and flash fire.
"'Deed, mon," said Hector, "a more wicked pair of eyes I never saw."
Martin raised his gun and fired at the bob-cat; but though he wounded it, the cat jumped at us, pulling the clog after it. McKinstry gave it another shot, which knocked it over. It died hard.
When the animal was dead, we examined it. It was over three feet long and about two feet high. Its tail was about six inches long. Its head was about as big as a half-peck measure. Its ears were pointed, with little black tassels at the ends. It had whiskers on its cheeks and smellers like a cat. The fur was gray, except that on the belly, which was white.