Tom, with a cry of pain, dashed forward and fell beside Ruth to
examine the mastiff.

"My poor dog!" he cried. "Is he badly hurt? What's happened to him?"

"Did she shoot that panther?" demanded Isadore Phelps. "Look at it,
Tom!"

"Reno isn't so badly hurt, Tom," Ruth declared. "I believe he has a
broken leg and these cuts. He dashed right in and attacked the
panther. What a brave dog he is!"

"But he never killed the beast," said Bob. "Who did that?"

"Who was shooting here? Where's the gun, Ruth?" Tom demanded, now
giving some attention to the dead animal.

Ruth related the affair in a few words, while she helped Tom bind up
Reno's wounds. The young master tore up his handkerchiefs to do duty
as bandages for the wounded dog.

"We'll carry him to camp--we can do it, easily enough, old man,"
said Bob Steele.

"And what about the panther? Don't we want his pelt?" cried Isadore.

"We'll send Long Jerry after that," Tom said. "I wish that fellow
hadn't run away with tiy rifle. But you couldn't help it, Ruth."