He hardly knew what to do next, but he kept his eyes open. He hoped for some discovery among the truck littering the yard that would suggest a way of getting Big Bob again on the run.
"Capital—the very thing," cried Andy suddenly.
He dropped the pitchfork and whipped out his pocket knife. In two seconds he had severed a forty-foot stretch of clothes line running from a hook on the house to a post.
Then Andy ran to the kitchen door. Hanging at its side was a big piece of raw beef.
It was evidently from an animal recently slaughtered, for it was still moist and dripping. Andy tightly secured one end of the clothes line about it. He ran to the side of the house.
Big Bob was just finishing a repast on some apple pie. Andy gave the meat a fling. It struck the bear in the face. Big Bob raised his head. He sniffed and licked his lips. He made an eager, hungry spring for the meat, which had rebounded several feet.
"Come on," said Andy, sure now that his bait was a good one, and that his experiment would succeed. "I've got you, I guess."
Andy started on a run, paying out the rope. Just as Big Bob was about to pounce upon the toothsome spoil, Andy gave it a jerk.
He gauged his rate of progress on a close estimate. Along the trail sped bruin. Andy put across the fields.
He heard a bell ring out. Glancing back at the farmhouse, he saw a human arm reaching through an open window. It pulled at a rope leading to a big alarm bell hanging from the eaves. Looking beyond the farmhouse he also saw three or four men in a distant field, summoned by the bell, now rushing in its direction.