“Listen!” Johnny’s voice was tense now. His figure stiffened. “In a minute I’m going after him. I’ve got the bag. If I get him I’ll pop him inside. I won’t miss now. You just follow along slowly. I might need you.”
“Al-all right,” the younger boy agreed.
There might have been boys who would have said, “This is my turn. You muffed last time.” Not so Lawrence. All too well he knew the skill and natural daring of his cousin. And, after all, in their little family the rule had ever been, “Each for all and all for each.” So he watched his cousin glide silently out for one more adventure.
Ten seconds later in watching the little drama of wild life being played there on the ice, he had all but forgotten Johnny. Never before had he seen the tame otters put on such a clever show. Just as the larger one had so far escaped the onrush of the fox that he was becoming discouraged, the small otter, with cunning and extreme daring, slipped up and all but shouted in the fox’s ear. At once, the now thoroughly angered fox turned to dash after this second intruder.
No sooner had the first otter been abandoned than he turned about to begin slipping up on the fox to dare him for one more race.
“For all the world like a game of tag!” Lawrence murmured.
All this was aiding Johnny, though it is to be doubted whether the otters knew the value of their antics. The fox was being led farther and farther out on the ice. At the same time his attention was so held by this strange game that he was almost certain to miss catching sight of the boy who now glided closer, ever closer to him.
“Good old otters!” Johnny repeated in a whisper as, drawing his moose-hide mittens tight, he prepared for the final dash.
“He’s going after him,” Lawrence thought as, with a thrill shooting up his spine, he glided from his sheltered spot, ready, if need be, to come in on the finish.
With a suddenness that must have been startling to the keenest eyes, Johnny swept down upon the fox and the otters. Did the otters see him? Beyond doubt. They saw everything. But the fox? For once he was caught quite unawares. One startled look, a quick squatting down on the ground, and Johnny was at his side. Before the fox could relax from this stiff pose, Johnny’s hands, like a brass collar, were about his neck.