But if the latter could not spring up and run, because of his injured leg, he could roll to good advantage, and this he proceeded to do as soon as he saw the need of it. Over and over he went, like some living log, down toward the lake shore, and away from the struggling beast. “Give him another bullet, Tom!” cried Bert. “Finish him off now.” “Here goes!” exclaimed our hero, and from the muzzle of his repeater he pumped another leaden missile into the brute. He had a clear view now, with Jack out of the way. The animal sprang into the air, fell back, quivered convulsively, and then lay still. The second bullet had ended its misery. Tom, Bert and Dick ran up. “He’s done for,” remarked Bert. “Stop rolling, Jack!” suddenly called Tom, “or you’ll be in the lake,” for his chum, being unable to see the result of the shot, still imagined himself in danger, and was approaching the water. At Tom’s call, however, he slacked up in his queer method of progress, and arose to his feet. “That was a close call,” said Jack, as he limped up to the others. “Who did the business for our savage friend there?” and he kicked the carcass. “Tom did. You might have known it,” answered Bert. “I just happened to,” said our hero modestly. “I was in the lead, and saw it first. Then I fired.” “And a good job for you that he did,” remarked Dick. “Thanks,” said Jack, fervently, and his hand and that of Tom met in a firm clasp. “What sort of a beast is it, anyhow?” asked Bert, as he surveyed the tawny body. “A lynx, and a big one, too,” declared Dick, who knew something about animals. “They’re as savage as a wildcat when they’re hungry, and this one probably thought Jack would make a good meal.” “I never heard a thing until the shot,” explained Tom’s chum. “I was sleeping soundly and I thought it was a clap of thunder. Jove! If you hadn’t come along!” and he shuddered. “Well, shall we take it back to camp with us?” asked Bert. “I’d like to,” spoke Tom, “but it’s a hard job to skin it in hot weather, and I’m afraid I couldn’t keep the hide. Besides the fur isn’t in very good condition. I guess we’ll just leave it where it is.” Then, after a rest on shore, and talking over the incident, they got in the boat, Tom taking the big owl he had shot, and started back for their camp. The next day they went off on another trip, exploring the woods and hills around the lake. They did more fishing, and looked for something to shoot, but saw nothing. “But there hasn’t any more bacon disappeared,” said Dick one morning, as he was frying some for breakfast. “No, I guess we got the lynx that took it,” said Tom. “I thought I detected the odor of fried bacon and eggs on him,” he added with a smile. But if they imagined they were to be free from the prowlers of the woods they were mistaken, for, a few nights later, they were awakened by a noise near the place where they threw the odds and ends from their kitchen--empty tins, bits of food and the like.