“Suffering tripe, can’t you be serious for a minute?” Roy burst out. “I tell you my scheme will work. It’s the only chance we have. Look—the other bear has arrived. Hear ’em talking to each other? Suppose they’re able to boost themselves up here? ’Course I don’t say they could—it’s pretty high, thank goodness. But if they did? Where would we be then? Now you watch. I’m going to try it. Here she goes.”
Teddy settled himself in a sitting position on the ledge with his back to the wall, so that he was out of sight of the bears below. He waved his hand grandly.
“You may fire when ready, Gridley!” he quoted.
Roy carefully judged the distance from the ledge to the spot where the gun lay, estimating the length of line he would have to use. By this time the two bears were in close conference. Deep rumblings of bear talk came to the boys on the ledge, and finally one heavy-throated, decisive grunt.
“Period,” said Teddy, and lapsed once more into silence.
Roy took a firm stand upon the ledge. He had already attached the stone to the line and had removed the cork from the fortunately large hook. Now he drew back his arm, took careful aim, and threw. The line whistled out, then sagged as the stone struck the ground.
“Make it?” Teddy asked, not deigning to arise.
“Missed,” was the laconic reply. “Give me time.”
“Certainly. We have weeks at our disposal. I’ve got nothing to do but sit here, anyway.”
Roy grinned good-naturedly and drew the line in. Once more he cast.