“Then, papa,” broke in little Nell again, “we can keep Buster, can’t we?”
“Only a few days, dear,” was the smiling reply. “We have no place to keep him, and I’m sure he’d soon try to escape.”
The little girl pouted, and looked anxiously at Buster before speaking. “Then what will become of him?” she added. “He won’t have any home at all. That will be dreadful, papa, and he’s been so good to me.”
“Ah!” exclaimed her father suddenly, his eyes brightening. “I have it. We’ll send him to the Zoo. We’ll make them a present of him if the circus people don’t come to claim him.”
The little girl was not exactly sure that she approved of this, and she continued pouting and looking at Buster. “But won’t they shut him up in a cage, and keep him there all the time?” she queried. “I don’t think I’d like to be caged forever and forever, would you?”
The question was addressed to her father, but Buster answered it with a vigorous shake of the head. He didn’t know anything about the Zoo. It was a place he had never heard about, but if they kept bears caged up there all the time he didn’t care to know more about it. It certainly was a dreadful place.
He had often pitied Spot and Ocelot for being shut up in their cages all the time, but he blamed them a good deal for that. They wouldn’t behave themselves decently, and it served them right. But that was no reason why he should be kept in a cage all the rest of his life. No, he preferred to be free.
“My dear,” Buster heard the father say after a pause, “that is the only wise thing to do. Keeping him here is simply out of the question. We must put him in the cellar until I can notify the authorities. Then they’ll put him in a cage at the Zoo, and you can go and see him as often as you like.”
The thought of being able to see Buster at the Zoo made her feel better, and she turned and whispered to him: “I’ll come every week to see you, Buster, and I’ll bring you sugar and peanuts and candy, and everything.”
Buster smiled, for he knew that she meant what she said, but he was greatly troubled in mind. Could he, for the sake of seeing the little girl once a week, endure prison for the rest of his life? All the outdoor freedom would then be denied him. He couldn’t walk around, nor perform before people in the circus; he couldn’t even crawl under a pile of canvas or a clump of bushes to sleep. He would always be behind those iron bars.