The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island | Page 5

eyes, shrinking back, and shrugging his shoulders.
"Then how about you, Step Hen," pursued Davy, determined to put it to each of the scoffers in turn until he had shown them up in good style; "I notice that you're looking like you didn't reckon there couldn't abeen such a thing as a genuine panther around this region in the last twenty years and more. Suppose you tumble up there, and take a look- in!"
But the party indicated smiled sweetly, and laid his hand on the region of his stomach, as he went on to say:
"Why, really and truly, Davy, I think I'm going to have one of those nasty cramps just like you used to have so often. There's agripe coming on right now, and you see how unpleasant it would be to find myself doubled-up while I was thirty feet from the ground. I'm afraid I'll have to pass this time."
"Then, there's Giraffe who'll he sure to volunteer," continued the other, bound to take all the scoffers in by turns. "He's of an investigating turn of mind, and if he wants to, I reckon he might take that gun along, so he could have some show, if the thing jumped right out in his face!"
"Well, now," the long-legged scout answered, with a whimsical grin, "I'd like to accommodate you the worst kind, Davy, but you know how it is with me. I ain't worth a cooky before I've had my feed. Feel sorter weak about the knees, to tell you the honest truth; and I never was as keen about climbing to the top of tall trees as you were, Davy. Count me out, please, that's a good fellow."
At that Davy laughed outright.
"I see you've got cold feet in the, bargain, Giraffe," he asserted. "Well, then, if anybody's going to climb up there and poke that ugly old beast out of his den it'll have to be either our scout-master, or Allen; for I tell you right now you don't catch me monkeying with a buzz-saw after I've had my fingers zipped."
"I'll go," said Thad, quietly.
"Here, take this, Thad," urged Step Hen, trying to force the shotgun into the hands of the other, as he stepped toward the base of the big tree.
Thad and Allan again exchanged looks.
"Don't think I'll need it, do you, Allan?" the former asked.
"Hardly," came the reply; "and even if you did carry it up, the chances are you couldn't find a way to hold on, and shoot at the same time. Here, let me take that thing, Step Hen; you're that nervous. If anything did happen to fluster you, I honestly believe you'd up and bang away, and perhaps fill our chum with bird-shot in the bargain."
Step Hen disavowed any such weakness, but nevertheless he was apparently glad to hand over the weapon; because he realized that Allan knew much better how to use firearms than he did, and if there was any occasion for shooting, the responsibility would be off his shoulders; for Step Hen never liked to find himself placed where he was in the limelight and had to make good, or be disgraced.
Thad did not appear to be at all worried, as he took a last good look aloft, as though wishing to assure himself that there was no panther in sight among the thick branches above, before he trusted himself up there.
His good common sense told him that the chances were as ten to one that Davy had not seen what he claimed at all; but his fears had worked overtime, and simply magnified some trifling thing.
Of course had Thad really believed there was any chance of meeting such a savage beast as a panther he would never have ventured w make that climb; or if he did he must have surely taken the gun along with him.
The others gathered around near the foot of the tree, and tried to follow the daring climber with their eyes, meanwhile exchanging more or less humorous remarks in connection with his mission.
All of them, saving possibly Allan, seemed to be a little nervous concerning the outcome; because Davy kept on asserting his positive belief that it was a real true panther that lay in the aperture above, and not a make-believe.
"I only hope Thad can dodge right smart if the old thing does come whooping out at him!" was the way Davy put it; at which the eyes of Bumpus grew rounder and rounder, and he began to quietly edge away from under the tree, an inch at a time; for he hoped none of his chums would notice his timidity, because Bumpus was proud of having done certain things in the line of bagging big game, on the occasion of their trip to the Far West.
"There," remarked Step Hen, "he's getting up pretty