"They're hunting for us! Now don't you tell them we got lost!" said Willis, with the guile so apt to develop in a boy who has older brothers who tease him.
"But we did," said John.
"If you tell them I'll lick you!" exclaimed Willis. "Make them believe we've been guarding this bear!"
John and I did not know what to think of so glaring a deception; but Willis did the talking; and when Ben called out to demand why in the world we had not come home, Willis shouted:
"We've got a big bear under the barn! He's ours, and we are afraid he'll get away!"
Neither Ben nor Mr. Eastman asked us another question, but hastened to see the bear. A plank was pulled up, and then Ben shot the beast at short range. It did not even growl.
They made a rude sled of saplings, of the kind known to hunters as a "scoot," and drew the bear home; and from the vainglorious talk of Willis one might have thought us the three most valiant lads that ever ranged the forest! John and I said little. It was rather fine to be considered heroes, who would not leave a bear even to go home to a Thanksgiving dinner; but I am glad to remember that we did not feel quite right about it; and soon afterward John and I revealed the true state of things to our folks at home.
The Murches claimed the lion's share of the spoils, but gave John and me a dollar apiece; and I recollect that I had a very bad cold for a week. Sam's cut foot healed promptly. It was dressed three times with powder-post, and showed no sign or symptoms of "proud flesh."
THE QUEEN BEE
By Carl Ewald