"But his mine 's already made up," said Zeke.
"They's time to change afore night. Ef he's goin' to Perrysburg——"
"Perrysburg? They ain't no talk uv Perrysburg," said Zeke.
"They may be," answered Bob. "Un ef Perrysburg's the place, you put the candle at the leetle winder on the north side uv the chimbley. Un when I shoot you put out the candle, un then I'll know it's you, un you'll know 't I understan'. You see, 't won't do fer me to stop any nearder 'n the hill, un I'll wait there till I see your candle. Then you go weth Jake." Here Bob got up and strained his longsighted eyes at some object in the bushes on the other side of the brook. "Is yon hoss yourn, on t' other side of the branch?"
"I don't see no hoss," said Zeke.
"Well, you watch out a minute un you'll ketch sight uv 'im. He's gone in there to git shed of the flies."
"That's our clay-bank, I believe," said Zeke, getting up and carefully scanning the now half-visible horse.
"Mine! you hain't seen nor heern tell of me, un you b'long to Jake's crowd weth all your might."
With these words Bob set out again for his bear-hunt, while the barefoot Zeke waded through the stream, which was knee-deep, and set himself to beguile Britton's clay-bank horse into standing still and forfeiting his liberty.