“You can come down now!” said the stranger.
“Holy Smoke!” shouted Kit. “How did you shoot that bear without firing a gun? Is he really dead?”
“He’s as dead as he ever will be!” was the reply.
“Did you throw something at him?” asked Kit, still wondering.
The boy heard a chuckle in the bushes but saw no one.
“I have a silencer on my gun,” the voice said directly. “I don’t care to advertise every bullet I send out.”
The boy dropped down from the tree and stood for a moment over the bear, still twitching spasmodically, but undoubtedly dead.
Then a man in the uniform of a forest ranger stepped out and looked the boy over curiously.
“You’re a little mite of a fellow to be in a mix-up like this,” the ranger said. “Where are your friends?”
“Down in the valley,” replied the boy. “We came across in flying machines and we’re taking a little rest.”