I just held the lantern and said, "You see what a fine calf this is. He
ought to win a prize at the County Fair. He's disguised as a leopard, but
he can't fool us--I mean you fellows. You can bet boy scouts know a calf
when they see one."
They just stood there about fifteen or twenty feet off, staring. Even Harry
Donnelle stood stark still, staring. "What's the matter?" I said.
"Are you afraid of a poor calf? Come down in the front row; I won't let him
hurt you." Then Harry came nearer, but the other fellows stood over near
the spring house, so they could scoot inside, I suppose. The Safety First
Patrol!
Harry Donnelle just looked and then he said, "By--the--great--horn--spoon!
It's a _leopard._"
"I thought maybe it was a nanny goat," I said.
He just shook his head and looked at the animal all over and said, "Jumping
Christopher! That's a _leopard,_ as sure as you live."
"Well, if you insist," I said.
"I never heard of a leopard on the North American Continent," he said,
shaking his head-.
"I guess he swam over, hey?" I said.
"Jingoes, I hate to shoot him," he said.
By now all the bold, brave, heroic Silver Foxes began coming closer to get
a good pike at the leopard.
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