"What?"
"If we only had some ice—"
"We got ice; plenty of it. We got a load from the railroad yesterday."
"Then our only chance to save him is to fill the barrel quickly.
We must freeze him, and freeze him well, before it is too late!
By Jove! I'm glad I thought of it!"
Stover turned to his men. "Four of you-all hustle up a couple hundred pounds of that ice pronto! Crack it, an' fill the bar'l." There was a scramble for the door.
"And there's something else, too," went on Berkeley. "He's being fed wrong for his last days of training. The idea of a man eating lamb-chops, fried eggs, oatmeal, and all that debilitating stuff! Those girls overload his stomach. Why, he ought to have something to make him strong—fierce!"
"Name it," said Willie, shortly.
"Something like—like—bear meat."
"We ain't got no bear." Willie looked chagrined.
"This ain't their habitat," added Stover apologetically.