Part 25 (1/2)

”I hope you've only got one hammer raised,” continued Max. ”It'd be pretty tough if you fired both barrels again, and lamed your left shoulder, too.”

”Cracky! I guess you're right, Max. Wait a few seconds till I set one hammer down. I ain't going to take the chances. Shooting left-handed's bad enough, but what'd I do if I lamed that arm, too!”

”Try it w-w-with your l-l-legs!” observed Toby.

”All ready!” called out Max.

”Q-q-quick! He's m-m-moving off!” shouted Toby.

”All the better,” said Max, coolly. ”We can get a good aim at his side now; just back of the shoulder, remember, Bandy-legs!”

”C-c-count!” begged Toby, who hated to think of the bold fish robber getting off scot-free after his recent raid.

The bear was ambling off. Perhaps he had come to the wise conclusion that too much fish at one time was bad for a bear's digestion. And then, again, he did not altogether like the looks of all these queer two-legged creatures with those crooked black sticks which they kept poking out at him.

He would not run away, because, of course, he was not really afraid; but even a bear might be allowed to conduct a masterly retreat.

”One!” called out Max.

The three guns were leveled.

”Two!”

Then cheeks pressed the stocks and eyes glanced along the tubes, while itching fingers began to play with waiting triggers.

”Three!”

It was almost the roar of a cannon that followed. Three guns had spoken almost in the same breath.

”H-h-he's g-g-gone!” yelped Toby, who could see better than any of the others, because no little puff of white powder smoke obscured his vision.

A tremendous thras.h.i.+ng in the water told them that the wounded bear must have toppled over into the partly frozen pond.

”Look out for him!” cried Max.

He had ejected the used cartridge from his magazine rifle with one quick motion. Another sent a fresh one into the firing chamber.

Steve had drawn back the second hammer of his gun, and in this fas.h.i.+on then the two chums advanced straight toward the spot where they had last seen the bear.

Bandy-legs, more cautious, kept farther off, though he, too, aimed to reach the border of the little lake, in order to see what was going on.

”Got him!” whooped Steve, when he discovered that the bear was evidently fatally wounded, and fell back into the water every time he tried to climb the bank.

It was Max who thought to mercifully put an end to the stricken beast's sufferings by another well-directed shot from his rifle.