to borrow it to come out here to Maine woods, but I never dreamed of
getting game right in camp."

"Don't shoot dis niggah!" pleaded Tavia, actually making for the
ladder.

Dorothy went over to the open window and put the rifle to her
shoulder. She pulled the trigger. There was no discharge. Not
satisfied with one trial she worked the rifle until there was
positively no possibility of any load being in the weapon.

"There, that's clean," she said. "Now for the cartridge."

Over on the wall hung Jack's ammunition box. Cologne was watching at a
safe distance. Tavia had gone downstairs by way of a rope that Jack
Markin used for descending. Dorothy put the load in, made sure it was
all right, then went over to the beast's hiding place. She crouched
down and took aim.

"Do--be--careful, Dorothy."

Crack!

"There! That fetched him!" exclaimed Dorothy. "I saw him roll over."

"Make sure he is dead before you pull the door away," again cautioned
Cologne.

"Dead as a carpet tack," declared Dorothy. "Let's call Tavia and get
her to pull him out. She ought to do something in this, our first