"Yes, he did, but I'd forgotten," supported Terry. "I was intending to speak about it, but these other things put me off the track."
"What'd you sell him for?" taxed George. "Shouldn't think you'd have sold him. He's awful peaked, shut up there."
"Well, we didn't sell him for that, anyway," declared Harry. "Good-bye. You fellows stay here. I'm going."
"Where?"
"Down there—to Denver and Auraria. We'll go and rescue Duke, won't we, Virgie?"
"You don't need to go, do you? The folks can rescue him. We'll tell Virgie to ask them to," proposed Terry. "They'll do it."
"No, sir!" rapped Harry. "I got him into that mess and I'll get him out if it takes every cent we have. We can pay Father Richards by selling the mine, if necessary; but Duke sha'n't fight any bear. That wasn't the bargain." And he bolted into the cabin.
Terry gazed at George; George solemnly gazed at Terry. It was a day of sudden changes in plans.
"Shucks! Duke oughtn't to be made to fight a bear, though," murmured Terry.
"I should say not—I call that downright cruel," agreed George. "But the bear wasn't there yet. Anyway, maybe the man won't sell."