“That will be a good way,” said Bob.
The next day, after Don had said good-by to Rex, he was taken back to the farm in the automobile.
“Well, this is certainly better than running along on three legs,” thought Don, whose sore foot was all well now.
When they were half-way to the farm the automobile had to stop, because all the wind came out of one of the big tires, and James, the chauffeur man who steered the machine, had to get out to put on a new tire.
While Bob and Alice, who rode with Bob, carrying Rex in her arms, were waiting under the shade of a tree beside the road, they heard a bugle horn playing.
“What’s that?” cried Alice. “Soldiers?”
“It sounds more like the horn of a fishman,” said Bob.
But it was neither one. Don smelled a strange, wild-animal smell in the air, like the one coming from the circus passing along the road, the day Squinty, the comical pig, had run away. Then, around a bend in the road came two men, one of them leading a big bear by a chain, and the other carrying the horn.
“Oh, it’s a bear!” cried Alice. “I’m afraid!”