rack together. His hands were above him
and he was wedged in so tightly that he could not bring them down.

"Well, of all things!" he murmured, when he could catch his breath.
"I am a prisoner now and no mistake!"

He looked up, but a slight twist of the tree cut off the sunlight
from overhead, although he could see dimly after his eyes became
somewhat accustomed to the semi-gloom.

Shep waited to get back his breath, and then started to feel around
for something by which he might raise himself. Not a projection
of any sort was at hand.

"How in the world am I to get out of this?" was the question which
he asked himself.

He could not answer the riddle, and the cold perspiration stood
out on his forehead. Was it possible that he must remain a prisoner
in the tree forever?

"I've got to get out somehow!" he told himself, desperately. "I must
get out!"

Again he felt around, and tried to raise himself by means of his feet.
He went up several inches, but that was all, and a moment later
slipped down again.

It must be confessed that Shep was now thoroughly alarmed, and
he trembled a little as he thought of the possible outcome of
this unlookedfor adventure. Perhaps he would have to remain there
until he died of hunger and thirst. Long afterwards his friends
might find his bones.

Then he thought of crying for help and gave half a dozen shouts.
But no answer came back, for nobody was in that vicinity.

Again he tried to raise himself, and by a mighty effort got up
a distance of a foot and a half. But that seemed to be the limit
and, utterly exhausted, he dropped back, gasping for breath.

"It's no use," he mused, dismally. "I'm caught in a regular vise."

Then he thought of cutting his way out of the tree and after a
long struggle managed to get at his jack-knife. But cutting in
the position he occupied was a slow process, and made his hand
ache long before he had even a hole through which he might peer.

At last he gave up the attempt and stood still, not knowing what
to do next. He felt that he was as good as buried alive. What
was to be the outcome of this perilous adventure?

CHAPTER XIII

LOST IN THE WOODS

Snap had fairly good luck while on the hunt. He shot half a dozen
rabbits and one of the plumpest partridges he had yet seen.

As he moved along, he listened for some shots from Shep, but,
hearing none, concluded that his chum was having no success.

"It's too bad," thoug