Part 9 (1/2)

”Has he-ha-ha-has he gone?” wailed Chunky, peering from behind a tree.

”No, he hasn't gone. He's very much here. Don't you see that tent!

What do you suppose is making it hump up in the middle, if he isn't there? And the tent's on fire, too,” answered Ned, in a tone of disgust. ”This is a bad start for sure.”

”I didn't fall in that time, did I? I fell out,” interrupted Stacy. ”Lucky for me that I did, too. I would have been in a nice fix if that tent had come down on me and that animal at the same time.” He s.h.i.+vered at the thought. ”What is it, a lion?”

”Lion! No, you ninny, it's a bear. B-e-a-r,” spelled Ned, with strong emphasis. ”Do you understand that?”

”Y-y-e-s. I-I-I thought it was a lion. I did, honest,” he muttered. ”And it tickled my neck with its paw, too. Wow!”

Stacy instinctively moved further away from the tent.

Disturbing as their situation was at that moment, the lads could not repress a shout of laughter over Stacy's funny words. But Stacy's face was solemn. He saw nothing to laugh at.

”Lucky for both of you that you didn't yawn. The bear might nave fallen in,” jeered Ned.

”Might have been a good thing for us if Chunky had yawned. Maybe the bear would have got to yawning at the same time, and yawned and yawned until he was so helpless that we could have captured him,”

laughed Walter.

”Not much chance of that,” answered Tad. ”Bears don't yawn until after a full meal. I guess our bear over there hasn't had one lately or he wouldn't have been nosing about our camp when we were all there.”

”Keep back there, boys. Please don't get too close. He is liable to break out at any time. He is a small bear, but there is no telling what he may do in his rage when he emerges,” warned the Professor.

”We're not afraid,” answered Ned.

The boys, having no weapons, had armed themselves with clubs, prepared to do battle with their visitor should he chance to come their way.

”What's that racket over there in the bushes?” demanded Ned, wheeling sharply.

”It's the ponies,” answered Tad, darting away.

At last the little animals had discovered the presence of the bear in camp and were making frantic efforts to break their tethers.

”Come over here, some of you. The bronchos are having a fit. I can't manage all of them at once,” called Tad in an excited tone.

”What's the matter--are they afraid?” called the Professor.

”I should say they are. They'll get away from me if you don't hurry.”

Leaving the hear to his own desperate efforts, the boys rushed to the aid of Tad Butler. They were not quick enough, however.

”There goes one of them!” cried Tad.

A pony had broken the rope and with a snort, had bounded away. Tad, leaped on the bare back of his own pony, first having caught up his lariat, and set out after the fleeing animal.

Luckily the runaway broncho had headed for the open and Tad was able to overhaul him before they had gone far from the camp.

Riding up beside the little animal it was an easy matter to drop the loop over his head and bring him down.