“We’ll try,” said Kittie demurely. “But if you go, we shall expect a good bear skin apiece, to pay for the lonesomeness.”
“Don’t let ’em put their paws on your shoulders, Tom,” counseled Randolph solemnly.
“Nor try to pacify them with sugar,” added Pet, to whom Randolph had basely confided the story of his cousin’s adventure at Glacier Station.
In the midst of the laughter, Mr. Percival arrived.
“Father, we want to go off on a bear-hunt,” began Tom, all in a breath. “Of course you’re willing, aren’t you, sir? And Solomon says”—
“Wait, wait,” laughed Mr. Percival, taking a seat on a stool—for this conversation took place on the deck of the Queen, just in front of the open stateroom doors—“who is it that wants to go on a bear-hunt? Bess, I suppose, and Miss Selborne?”
They all shouted at this, Adelaide as merrily as the rest.
“Oh! I don’t want to hunt bears, Mr. Percival,” she cried. “Nothing short of elephants will do for me.”
Then they all began talking at once, and at last Mr. Percival obtained some clear idea of the plan. He looked grave.