“How about us?” said the motorman severely.
“Oh, I had forgotten you!” said Nimbus.
“We hadn’t,” said the motorman.
“Then you’d better,” said the Equine Ox, sticking his head out of one of the windows of the car. “Always remember yourself last.”
“I don’t care to hear anything more from you,” said the motorman. “It’s against the rules for a beast to talk, anyway.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that!” said a voice from a little peak just above them.
“A bear,” said Billy, astonished.
“Why not?” said the voice, as a great white Polar Bear threaded his way down the slope toward the trolley car.
But the motorman and the conductor seemed to think there were many reasons why not. They hastily sought shelter inside the car and closed the door after them, while the Equine Ox, with a snort of terror, pulled his head in so quickly that he brought away a part of the sash with his horns.
“My!” said Billy; “I’m afraid that bear will get them or us.”