"No—with one whack of my paw," said the Bear, shaking his fist menacingly at the Flamingo. "I could change your whole face, for that matter," he added, with a frown.
"I was only fooling, Poley, old man," said the Flamingo, a trifle worried. "Of course you could, but you wouldn't, would you?"
"Not unless I had to," replied the Bear, "but, gee, aren't we just whizzing along! Are you cold, Tom?"
"Yes," said Tom, with a shiver, "just a little."
"Well, come sit next to me and I'll let you use my furs. I don't need 'em myself. I'm a pretty warm Bear, considering where I come from."
"Sit close, gentlemen," cried the man in charge of the Oscycle. "We're coming to a thank-you-marm. Look out! Look out! Hang together. By jove, there goes the Monkey."
And sure enough, off the Monkey flew as the Oscycle crossed the hump at an enormous rate of speed.
"Hi, there, you fellows," the Monkey shrieked, as he landed in the soft snow, "wait a minute. Hi, you! Stop! Wait for me!"
"Can't do it," roared the man in charge. "Can't stop—going too fast."
"But what am I going to doo-oo-oo?" shrieked the Monkey excitedly.