And Bobolink must have detected an air of doubt in the manner in which Paul spoke those two words, for he immediately resumed:

"Honest Injun, Paul, I ain't foolin'! Say, do they have panthers around here? Because that's what I think it must be."

"Where'd you see it?"

As Paul put this question he was working his arms free from the folds of his blanket. When he lay down, more through force of habit than because he thought there would be any need of such a thing, Paul had placed his shotgun on the ground beside him. And no sooner was his right hand at liberty than, groping around, he took possession of it.

"Up in that big oak tree," Bobolink went on. "You watch where that limb hangs out over the camp and you'll see somethin' move; or I've been dreamin', that's all."

Paul did not have to twist his head very far around in order to see the spot in question. He watched it as the seconds began to troop along, until almost a fell minute had gone.

And Paul was just about to believe Bobolink must have been dreaming, when he, too, saw the bunch of leaves violently agitated.

Undoubtedly some tree-climbing animal was up there. Paul felt a thrill pass through him. Unconsciously, perhaps, his fingers tightened their grip upon the shotgun, which was apt to prove a tower of strength in case the worst that could happen came to pass.

Straining his eyes, as he partly lifted his head, Paul believed he could just make out a shadowy form stretched upon the large oak limb.

He was more than puzzled.

Wild animals were not altogether unknown within the twenty-mile limit around Stanhope. A bear might be seen occasionally—or at least the tracks of one, for the timid beast knew enough to hide in the daytime in one of the numerous swamps.

But this did not seem large enough for a bear, which would have surely made a more bulky object clinging to the limb. Moreover, bears were not reckoned bold, and no hunter had ever known one to come spying around a camp. As soon as the trail of human beings is run across by a bear, the animal always takes the alarm and hastens to its den, to lie low until the danger has passed.

But Bobolink had mentioned the magic word "panther," and this caused the other aroused scout to look more closely at the dimly seen object Sure enough it did seem to be flattened out on the limb, much as Paul imagined a big cat might lie.

"What'd we better do about it, Paul—give a yell and jump up?" Bobolink asked, his voice quivering, perhaps with excitement, or it might be under stress of alarm; for it was not the nicest thing in the world to be lying there helpless with a hungry panther crouching above.

"Wait, and let's make sure," replied the careful Paul.

Some impetuous boys would have thought, the very first thing, of bringing that double-barrelled gun to bear on the dark, shadowy figure, and cutting loose, perhaps even firing both charges at once.

At such close range, less than thirty feet, a shell containing even bird shot is apt to be projected with all the destructive qualities of a large bullet. Paul knew all about this, and also had faith in the hard-hitting qualities of his long tested gun; but he was not the one to be tempted into any rash action.

"Be sure you're right; then go ahead," was a motto which Paul always tried to practice. He had certainly found it worth while on more than one occasion in the past, and it was likely to serve him well now.

And so he waited, ready for a sudden emergency, but not allowing himself to be hurried.

He soon had reason to feel very thankful that his good sense had prevailed, for presently the leaves were again set to shaking and, as they parted, Paul saw something that gave him a shock.

"Oh! what d'ye think of that, now? It's the wild man of Cedar Island!" gasped Bobolink, actually sitting up in his excitement.

And Paul had already made certain of this fact as soon as his eyes fell upon the hairy face seen among the branches. The shudder that passed through his frame had nothing to do with fear. Paul was only horrified to realize what might have happened had he taken Bobolink's suggestion for the truth, and fully believed the figure in the oak to be a savage panther.

"We'd better let Mr. Jameson know," Paul remarked, as he also sat up and cleared his legs of the blanket.

"Yes, he'll know how to get him down. I bet you, Paul, the feller went and swam across from the island. But how would he guess we were here?"

"Oh! he could see the boats in the day time; and don't forget we've had a fire burning all night, so far," said the scout master.

When Mr. Jameson came out of the tent, in answer to Paul's low summons, and learned what had happened, he readily agreed to influence the wild man to come down. The poor fellow had learned to look on Mr. Jameson as a friend, and, realizing that he had abandoned the island, doubtless it was his desire to see him again that had induced this visit.

He proved to be harmless, and upon being given food ate ravenously. Later on it was discovered that he had launched a log and made his way to the mainland by means of this crude craft, with a branch for a paddle.

Mr. Jameson declared that he would take the stranger to Stanhope when the vehicle came for the professor, and do all in his power to learn just who he was, as well as get him safely back among his friends.

To dispose of the wild man of Cedar Island once and for all, it might be said right here that Mr. Jameson kept his word. The name John Pennington served as a clue, and in the end he learned that was his name. He had lost his mind through an accident and, though his case was deemed hopeless, occasionally he was apt to have little flashes of his former cleverness. He was returned to the sanitarium from which he had escaped, and the boys never heard of him again. But the memory of the wild man would always be associated with Cedar Island.

On the following day Paul and Jack managed to get around to the outlet, for the scout master was anxious to learn what the chances of their leaving the lake, when they were ready, might be.

They found that, just as had been believed that shoulder of rock and earth had been shaken loose by the tremor of the earth at the time of the big shock, when the professor was experimenting with some new explosive.

In falling, it had indeed dammed the outlet, and the storm coming so soon after, of course the water in the lake had risen at a frightful rate. In the end the obstruction had commenced to disappear; but luckily for all concerned, it had held fairly well until much of the water had escaped, when finally it had given way.

The channel was as good as ever; indeed, Paul seemed to think that it offered fewer impediments to a passage now than before all this had happened.

That eased the minds of the scouts, and they could go back again to their camp with good news for the others.

A carriage came that day for the professor, and his assistants managed to carry him across country to the road; just as they had undoubtedly done the two big boxes of material that came from Mr. Stormways' mill that other day.

He shook hands with each and every scout before leaving, and promised to remember them always for what they had done. When he came to Paul, he clung to his hand, and there were tears in the eyes of the little professor as he, said:

"I honestly believe that you saved my life, my boy, and I trust that through your ability I may be spared a few more years. And depend on it, I'm never going to let you get out of touch with me, Paul Morrison. I hope to live to see you a great surgeon, some day."

The scouts filled out the balance of their vacation at the lake, and considered that they had had some of the strangest experiences that could happen to a group of boys; but although at the time they could not suspect it, there were still more interesting things in store for Paul and his comrades of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts. What these were, you will find related in the next volume of this series, to be called, "The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound; Or, A Tour on Skates and Iceboats."

When the time came for them to start back, it was with more or less anxiety that they came to the canal connecting the waters of the two rivers flowing parallel for a few miles, and only a short distance apart.

But they need not have borrowed trouble, for the Bushkill was still higher than usual at this season of the year and all through the disused canal they found plenty of water, so that neither of the boats stuck in the mud.

In good time, then, the Banner Boy Scouts arrived home, to thrill the lads who had not been fortunate enough to accompany them on their trip afloat, with wonderful accounts of all the remarkable things which had happened to them while in camp on Cedar Island.

THE END