An hour later, when arrangements had all been made for the future and the crowd had melted away, Johnny was preparing to throw the light switch, lock the door and go home, when his attention was attracted by some stranger who still lingered in the shadows.
Wonder what he wants, Johnny thought. There was something familiar about the stooping shoulders, the large, dark glasses of the stranger. “Did—did you want something?” he asked hesitatingly.
“Yes I—” the stranger came forward. “You may have forgotten. It’s been quite a while Johnny, but I—”
“Good grief!” Johnny exclaimed. “It’s Panther Eye! My old pal Panther Eye!” Next instant he was gripping the other boy’s hand until it hurt.
CHAPTER VII
PANTHER EYE’S RETURN
“Sit down, Pant,” Johnny’s mind spun like a top. “Pant! Good old Panther Eye. Sit down here. I’ll switch off that big light. There now! That’s more like it. What’s the good of light for a fellow like you? See in the dark well as the light. I—I’ll be right back, Pant. Got coffee! Lot of good hot coffee and hamburger, just right hamburger. Have a feast, Pant, and talk just like we used to. Jungles, Pant, and the great, white wilderness. Submarine in the Chicago river. Man! Oh, man!”
At this, as if suddenly realizing he was talking like a madman, Johnny ducked away toward the kitchen where, with shaky fingers, he laid crisp, brown hamburgers between round sliced rolls and poured great, steaming mugs of coffee.
All the time he was thinking. Panther Eye of all people! Panther Eye, you will know if you have been Johnny Thompson’s friend for long, had for a long time been Johnny’s boon companion. Then, quite suddenly and mysteriously, he had dropped out of his life. Nothing very strange about this for, after all, Pant had always been a mysterious person. He could see in the dark quite as well as in the light. This marvelous gift had more than once gotten them out of a tight place. Rumor had it that Pant and a great surgeon had been hunting panthers. A panther had torn out the boy’s eye. The surgeon had shot the panther, cut out its eye skillfully, set it in the place of the one Pant had lost and now, like all cats, he could see in the dark. A likely sort of story. But then, how could you explain it? Pant had once told Johnny he did it with the aid of some mechanical lighting device. Johnny had not quite believed that. What was one to believe? At any rate, here was Pant back again. Where had he been? Johnny wanted awfully to know. They’d have a grand talk about old times. Pant would tell of some fresh adventures. And then? Johnny was actually trembling with anticipation. Things would happen, they always did when Pant was about, weird, mysterious things. Oh well, this made life seem worth living. So let them come.
“Remember the Dust Eater?” Pant was saying three minutes later. “Remember the airship and all those little brown men way up there in the north?” Pant’s strange eyes shone.
“And the Siberian tiger?” Johnny exclaimed.