time, and he marveled to think how events could crowd upon each other's
heels, once they started.

There was that little adventure with Ted Shafter and his followers,
whereby he had, by a clever ruse, sent the fellows hurrying back down
the river, and given them such a good scare that they would never again
bother the campers on Catamount Island.

Then came the affair with the prowling bobcat; and Max would certainly
not soon forget the chilly sensation that held possession of him all the
time he could see those twin glowing yellow orbs fastened upon him.

And last, though far from least, had been that fear when he found reason
to believe a passing rattler was within half a dozen feet of him.

Could there be any further danger to be met? He knew of none, and hoped
nothing might occur to give him another thrill such as those that had
passed. For while Max Hastings might be said to be a resolute lad, about
as fearless as the ordinary boy of his years, perhaps more so, still he
did not yearn for excitement.

There was Steve now, who was quite another proposition; he just dearly
loved a racket, and was never so happy as when he felt that there was a
fight of some sort in prospect, he cared very little what its nature.

How much longer could he stand it? And was midnight far past? Max would
have given something for a chance to glance at the little nickel watch
he carried; but the flash of a lighted match might come just at a time
to ruin his carefully laid plans, and he declined to take the risk.