“When he was well out of sight, mother and Susan removed the barricades and forsook the attic. You may be sure they fastened every window, kept a keen outlook, and went about their work in fear and trembling.
“When my father got home, in the middle of the afternoon, he heard the story before he could unharness the horse. Straightway he set out again, and organized a hunting-party among the neighbors. The party was armed with all sorts and conditions of weapons; but it bagged that panther before sundown, whereby was my mother much consoled. And now, have I stuck to the facts?” said Stranion, turning to Queerman.
“To my surprise, you have!” responded the latter.
“Well,” went on Stranion, unruffled, “since the panthers got after me so early, it’s not much cause for wonder if they’ve kept it up.”
At this moment a strange, unearthly, gurgling cry broke the night’s stillness, and we started involuntarily.
“There is one of mine ancient enemies now,” said Stranion. “I’m sure to fall foul of him tomorrow, and one or the other of us will rue the day!”
“Well,” said Sam, “we all know it won’t be Stranion!”
The story done, I rose and replenished the fire, while Magnus passed around a tin of hot coffee. A whippoorwill,—
“Threshing the summer dusk
With his gold flail of song,”