“I suppose we can tie up to your pier, Tom?” said Adam. “I don’t know about that,” replied Pitman; “not if any of you is goin’ to sleep on board. I’d have you all come up and sleep in the house, but I haven’t got room enough for four of you. I’ve got a bed, though, that two of you can have. But them that sleeps on the boat had better anchor out a good ways from the shore, after we’ve all had our supper, and it’s dark. You needn’t do no cookin’ for yourselves. You’ve all got to come in-doors, and eat with us.” “I suppose we can tie up here till supper is over, can’t we?” asked Adam. “Well, no,” said Pitman, a little nervously. “You’d better run her up on the beach there by my boat, and bring your anchor ashore. It may be dark afore we’ve done supper.” “What’s up?” asked Adam. “Anything partic’lar?” “Well, yes,” said Pitman, lowering his voice. “Is these young friends o’ yourn scary?” “Can’t say that they are,” said Adam. “You can tell ’em anything you can tell me.” “Well, then,” said Pitman, “I’ll tell just how ’tis. I didn’t want to frighten these young men, for I s’posed, from their looks, that they’d come down from the North, and weren’t used to the kind o’ things that turn up in these wild parts. But if you say go ahead, all right. Last night a big painter came out o’ the woods, and went out on that pier. My dog seed him out there, and made for him. I didn’t know anything about it till I heard the noise o’ the fight, and then I came out with my gun; but afore I could git here the painter had killed the dog, and had dragged him a good way up the shore. I got sight o’ him, and blazed away. I reckon I didn’t hit him, but he just left the dog, and put into the woods. Painters is cowards when there’s a man about, but they ain’t afeard o’ no dog. Now, it’s my ’pinion that that beast’ll be back on that pier to-night, hopin’ he’ll git hold of another dog, and I’m goin’ to watch for him. Now, you can see for yourselves that it wouldn’t be exactly pleasant to be sleepin’ in a boat at the foot of that pier with a big painter standin’ and lookin’ down at you, and makin’ up his mind whether he should go aboard or not.” “No, indeed!” said Adam; “not even if you were waitin’ with your rifle ready, Tom.” “I reckon he’d be worse company,” said Pitman, “after I’d hit him than before, if I didn’t kill him out and out.” “If you are going to watch for a panther,” cried Chap, “I’m sure none of us will want to go to bed, either in the boat or the house. We’ve got guns along, and why can’t we all have the fun of hunting the beast?” “It don’t do to have too many for that sort of thing,” said Pitman; “but if any o’ you want to jine in the sport, I’m willin’. It’ll make us more certain of gittin’ him. And now let’s go in and have supper as quick as we can. Then we’ll come out and make things ready for the varmint.”