cautiously behind him, as if he were reaching for something. The
boys were too busy, however, to pay any heed to the lad, and the
Professor was deeply absorbed in his book.

"I've got you this time! Tell me you weren't tickling my neck? I'll
show you Stacy Brown's not the sleepy head you----"

The boy paused suddenly and scrambling to all fours turned about on
his hands and knees, intently gazing at the flap against which he
had been leaning.

"What's the matter, gone crazy over there!" called Tad. "Anybody
would think you had from the racket you are making."

Stacy did not answer. He had not even heard Tad speak to him. His
eyes, bulging with fear, were fixed on the flap. What he saw was a
long black snout poked through the slit in the canvas, and just back
of that a pair of beady, evil eyes.

"Y-e-o-w!" yelled Stacy. The lad leaped to his feet and dashed from
the tent, bowling over Walter and Tad as he ran, shouting in his
fright and crying for help. Knowing instinctively that something
really serious had happened, the others sprang up, peering at the
other end of the tent. For a moment, they could see nothing in the
flickering shadows; then as their eyes became more accustomed to the
half light, they discovered what filled them with alarm as well.

"Run for your lives!" shouted Tad, bolting from the tent in a single
leap, followed almost instantly by Ned Rector and Walter Perkins.