CHAPTER V

CORNERING THE BOBCAT

The next evening Harding was taking out a cigar in the vestibule when a
man brushed past him wearing big mittens and a loose black cloak such
as old-fashioned French-Canadians sometimes use.

"Why, Blake!" he cried. "What have you got on? Have you been
serenading somebody?"

"I can't stop," Blake answered with a grin. "Open that door for
me--quick!"

A porter held back the door, but as Blake slipped through, Harding
seized his cloak.

"Hold on! I want a talk with you!"

Blake made an effort to break loose, and as he did so a bobcat dropped
from beneath his arm and fell, spitting and snarling, to the floor.
Its fur was torn and matted, tufts were hanging loose, and the creature
had a singularly disreputable and ferocious appearance. Blake made an
attempt to recapture it, but, evading him easily, it ran along the
floor with a curious hopping gait and disappeared among the pillars.
Then he turned to his friend with a rueful laugh.