"He is missing, yes. I do not believe he has been shot." "It must be more of Dr. Mackey's work," muttered the wounded officer, and then sank down. The conversation had exhausted him utterly, and it was a long while before he spoke again. CHAPTER XXVIII. IN THE HANDS OF THE GUERRILLAS. Our hero knew only too well how dangerous a wild cat can be, and as he gazed at the beast looking in through the open doorway of the lonely cabin his heart was filled with dread. "A wild cat!" he muttered. "Scat! go away!" he yelled. The sudden cry caused the beast to retreat a few steps, and for the instant Jack breathed easier. But then the beast approached once more. "Go away! scat!" he repeated, but now the wild cat stood its ground, its eyes gleaming fiercely and its mouth half open, showing its sharp teeth. It was tremendously hungry, and this had caused it to find its way to the habitation. "Go away, I say," repeated Jack, and then, as the wild cat took a noiseless step forward, he let out a scream: "Help! Help!" The wild cat now prepared to leap upon him. It crouched low, shaking its short tail from side to side. The leap was about to be taken when, of a sudden, bang! went a gun, and the beast rolled over on its side. "A good shot, Ben!" came in the voice of Columbus Washington. "I rackon ye killed him." "Ben!" cried Jack, in great joy, as the face of the faithful old negro showed itself at the doorway. "You came in the nick of time!" "Dat's so," answered Old Ben, as he came forward and poked the wild cat with his gun barrel. "Dead, are ye? Well, Old Ben will make suah," and he hit the wild cat's skull a blow that crushed it completely. "Ben, you saved my life," went on Jack joyfully. "I was certain I was going to be chewed up." "Wot fo' is yo' a prisoner yeah?" asked Columbus Washington, as he gazed at Jack's bonds curiously. "Dr. Mackey made me a prisoner." "What, dat man!" ejaculated Old Ben. "Yes, Ben; he had me taken from the stable, where I had gone to watch that guerrilla." "And where am de guerrilla?" "Dr. Mackey helped him to escape." The faithful old colored man shook his head doubtfully. "Massah Jack, do yo' dun t'ink dat doctor am your fadder?" he asked. "No, Ben; I think nothing of the kind." "Neider do I. He is a-plottin' against yo'." "That is what I think, Ben. If I could manage it, I would have him arrested. Then we could get at the bottom of this affair." Jack was speedily released, and the party of three left the lonely mountain cabin and started across the country for the Ruthven plantation. "Yo' mudder will be tickled to see yo'," remarked Old Ben, as they trudged along. "She was worried to death ober yo' absence." "After this I will see to it that they don't get me again," replied our hero. Half a mile was covered when, on turning a point in the trail, they came unexpectedly upon a company of Confederate guerrillas who were taking it easy, lying in the grass.