I never did see a bigger shoe print, honest now. And, boys, it ain't the
nicest thing going to know that monster is right here, marooned on this
island with us."

"Now what makes you say that, Bandy-legs?" demanded Steve. "How d'ye
know but what he come across from the mainland?"

"Why," the other hastened to say, as though proud of having his opinion
asked, "he'd have to swim, then, because Max here said there wasn't a
sign of a boat landin' anywhere along the shore. Fact is, the island is
so rough that boats would find it pretty hard to land anywhere, but on
this little beach right at the foot, and made just for such a thing. And
then again, Steve, don't you forget about that queer old cabin, now. He
lives there, sure as you're born!"

"Whew, six more nights!"

That was Toby Jucklin finally getting his breath; and as there was no
telling when he would talk steadily, or stammer, none of his campmates
thought it at all strange to hear him say these words calmly and evenly.
Toby had been wrestling with those miserable vocal cords of his for so
long a time that he now had them under control for a short period at
least.

"Can we stand it, fellows?" asked Owen, more to find out how the others
felt than because his faith was becoming wobbly.

"Sixty, if you said the word!" declared the impulsive Steve, grimly;
"why, after accepting that dare, a dozen critters like this one we
haven't ever seen yet couldn't frighten _me_ away from Catamount Island;