“I see Hank and Pierre are keepin’ right along?” he remarked.
“Yes,” replied Allan, thinking this was really a question.
“Mebbe they think a nice bear skin wouldn’t be a bad article to have, even if it is the off season for furs,” Giraffe added.
“More’n likely,” Step Hen broke in with, “they reckon as how they’d better keep along, so as to bury what’s left of our poor chum, and claim his rifle and other belongings as salvage.”
“Let’s hope then they’ll meet up with the greatest disappointment of their lives,” Thad hastened to remark, shivering at the cruel picture the words of Step Hen presented to his mind.
“Listen!”
They all came to a standstill when Giraffe called out. Every ear was strained in the attempt to catch a sound that might be a cry for help, or the distant report of a gun.
“Guess it must a been that old crow cawing himself hoarse over yonder on that tree,” Giraffe finally admitted. “Thought it was somebody callin’ us to halt, sure I did, Thad.”
“Seems like you were mistaken,” was all the scoutmaster remarked, as once again the march was resumed.
“P’raps he didn’t overtake the old bear after all,” Step Hen broke out with, a couple of minutes later.