Then Jess Benson’s hounds, a pack of fourteen, which had never met its match in numerous encounters with wolves and coyotes, had been soundly whipped, and three of its number killed outright in a fight with some animal which their owner could not see, although he had witnessed the fight from a distance.
Now, as a climax to the whole business, had come Nathan Smith’s horrible death; and no man could say who or what would be the next victim. No wonder the entire county could talk of little else, and that the creature, whatever it was, had been named the “plague”!
As he thought over all these things for the hundredth time, Sheriff Parker cudgeled his brain in an effort to form some plan for trapping and killing the beast. He knew that there must be a way, somehow, to make an end of the terror, even though the most skillful trappers and hunters in the district had failed to discover it. The animal’s range was known. It seemed, for the most part, to frequent the country between Slater Creek and White Horse Mountain, probably because this region contained plenty of timber and natural shelter; and it was in this region that it must be cornered. For many years the little sheriff had studied the crimes of men, and few criminals had ever had just cause to boast of outwitting him; but this was a different task.
“Horace,” the sheriff burst out finally, coming to an abrupt halt in front of his friend, “this butchery has gone far enough. We must put an end to it. What do you say to trying this very night? The beast seems to roam mostly at night, and tonight will be moonlight. We’ll try to trap it at the Black Pool.”
Doctor Morse stared at the speaker in surprise.
“The Black Pool?” he repeated. “Are you crazy, Bert? To be sure, we have discovered, so far as possible at any rate, that the beast seems to frequent the pool more than any other one spot; but how can we trap it? That has already been tried more than once.”
“True, Horace; but we shall try in a different way. This thing, whatever it is, though it can’t be seen, can be felt and heard; therefore it must have a solid body, so to speak. It leaves a distinct trail, you know, and its victims are proof enough that it is a creature of flesh and blood. My scheme is to make it visible—then, if we are lucky, we can shoot it.”
The coroner jumped to his feet in his excitement.
“I see what you mean!” he cried. “Why haven’t we thought of that before? But how, Bert—how will you do it?”
“That remains to be seen.” Sheriff Parker smiled oddly as he looked at his companion. “If you are willing to risk the thing with me, I think I have a plan that will work. We’ll leave here in the car about four this afternoon; that will get us to the pool in plenty of time to set our trap before dark. Bring along your repeating shotgun—a heavy charge of buckshot is far more certain after dark than a rifle ball, and we can’t afford to miss.”