After the races the Rover boys and their chums settled down to enjoy themselves thoroughly. They felt that in the future the Longley boys would leave them alone so far as “rough-housing” the place was concerned.
The six lads were still anxious to get on the trail of the bear they had seen, and went out several times, but without success.
“We must have scared Mr. Bear out of his wits,” said Jack. “Otherwise we’d find some trace of him.”
“Oh, let’s try it again!” cried Fred. And eagerly they set out one Monday morning after a quiet Sunday in and around the bungalow.
They started in the rowboat, going again to the eastern shore of the lake in the vicinity of Flat Rock Creek, for Mose Mumbleton had again told them that the bear had surely been seen somewhere in that vicinity.
“Maybe it’s a different bear from the one we saw on our side of the lake,” remarked Spouter.
“Well, I don’t care if it is,” answered Fred. “One bear is as good as another as far as I am concerned if only we can bring him down.”
The boys tramped around the best part of the morning and then sat down to rest in the shade of some trees and bushes while partaking of the lunch they had brought along. They were close to a footpath running along the edge of the creek that flowed into Big Bear Lake, and while resting after eating saw two men coming along the path talking earnestly.
“I won’t take a cent less than five thousand dollars,” one of the men was saying. “Flanders has got to pay that much or he don’t get the formulas.”
“If I had my say, Carl, I’d charge him more than five thousand,” said the second man, a tall, thin individual with a heavy moustache.