In his palmy baseball days Andy had never amounted to a great
deal as a pitcher; but all the same he made a beautiful throw right then
and there.
The whirling, blazing fagot of wood struck the slinking beast full in
the side. Frank threw up his gun, ready to shoot should the jaguar, as
he feared might be the case, leap at his chum. But there proved to be no
need. Instead, the brute was evidently alarmed at this novel weapon,
something entirely beyond his ken.
Frank heard him give a snarl that told of mingled rage and fright. Then
he made a spring, but _away_ from the fire, and into the dense
undergrowth from whence he had just issued so bravely.
Looking around Frank saw that the glade was deserted of four-footed
foes. The whirling torches had done the work.
"Bully for us!" shouted the excited Andy, ready to dance in his delight
over the success of his labors. "Didn't we send 'em a flying, though?
Perhaps they just dare to come snoopin' around here again, when they're
not asked! Frank, I guess you nailed that critter, all right. Dast we
look and see?"
"Sure we will," returned Frank, instantly. "Pick up another bit of
burning wood. Then let me go just ahead of you, so that I can shoot if I
have to."
They thus boldly advanced toward the spot where Frank had first sighted
the blazing yellow orbs.
"I can see something there!" declared Andy, who possessed sharp eyes.
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