With a loud grunt, the bear turned about and vanished into the brush.
At the same instant Petite Jeanne appeared at the door. She had heard Florence scream.
“What happened?” she asked.
“A—a—something tried to steal our minnows,” Florence stammered. “I—I think it was a dog. Tillie, here, hit him.
“Oh! Tillie, meet my buddy, Petite Jeanne. She’s from France; an actress.”
“An actress!” Tillie stared at Jeanne as she might have looked at an angel. “I’ve heard of them,” she said simply.
“I thought,” Florence said in a low tone to Tillie, “that you were afraid of that bear.”
“Afraid—” Tillie scratched her head. “Yes, I am. But when I get good and mad, as Pop says, I’m not afraid of nobody nor nothin’.”
At that moment there came a loud whoop from the water. It was Turkey Trot.
“Got any?” he shouted.