“Go on, young man,” urged Hippy.
“I—I thought some bear meat might be appreciated by you folks, and of course I knew we couldn’t shoot bear, as it is out of season, unless we had to get rid of them. I—”
“Close your throttle! You are on the wrong division,” commanded Hippy. “Where did you get that stuff—I mean the stuff that you planted to call the bears?”
“Down at Cresco. I was talking with an old hunter who told me that he used bear-bait, and could call bear to him at any time. He said I must plaster it along the trail on bushes, and a few hours afterwards the bear would come right to the camp, that you didn’t have to hunt them at all. That is the way to hunt—wait for them to come to you. It is so much simpler. Well, he had some of it and was willing to sell it to me for five cart wheels—”
“Five what?” interrupted Nora.
“Cart wheels—dollars. I thought I had been stuck, but I wasn’t, was I?” chuckled the fat boy. “Wait! I have some of it left in a can. I’ll get it and show it to you,” offered Stacy, turning to run to his tent.
“No!” shouted the Overlanders.
Hippy grabbed the fat boy and hauled him back.
“We aren’t finished with you yet. Go on with the story. It is interesting,” averred Hippy.
“I waited till you were all asleep, then I plastered the tents, and then went to sleep. You know the rest. It worked, didn’t it?”