Placing the coon on the ground and handing the chain to Marion, she whispered: “Give me a lift to the first limb. Then hand me the coon.”
Having complied with her request, Marion leaned wearily upon the rifle while she listened to the sound of her companion scaling the tree, branch by branch.
Presently she heard Patience coming down. When at last Patience caught the lowest branch and swung herself down Marion saw that her hands were empty.
“C’mon!” Patience whispered hoarsely as she dragged her companion through the brush.
In silence they skirted the mountain side until they were almost directly above the cabin.
“Hist! Listen!” Patience came to a sudden standstill.
“Wha—what is it?” the other girl breathed.
“It’s the sound a coon makes when he’s lonesome. But listen!”
A new and louder sound burst upon their ears. There was no need for asking what this was. Marion knew all too well. It was the booming baying of a hound. The next second he was joined by his companion.
“Are they coming this way?” asked Marion, while a cold chill shook her from head to foot.