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Updated: May 9, 2025
Lige sprang for his rifle. In his haste he slipped on the smooth, damp floor and went sprawling. By the time he had recovered himself, the bear had ambled up to Stacy, until the boy could feel the hot, nauseating breath beating against his face. Tad Butler without regard for his own safety, leaped for the bear. But Professor Zepplin was too quick for him.
"Are you all safe down there, Tad?" "Sure thing!" answered the boy. Very slowly, restraining their inclination to haul the rope in with all speed only because the warning eyes of the guide were upon them, the two boys, assisted by Professor Zepplin, began hoisting Walter Perkins toward the top.
"And now what are your plans, young men?" smiled the hanker, after all had taken seats in his office in the rear of the bank. The lads waited for Professor Zepplin to speak. "Tell Mr. Simms what you have in mind," he urged. "We had thought of going over the old Custer trail," spoke up Walter. "Where, down in the Black Hills?" "No, not so far down as that.
Bear is getting along," announced the Professor, as they turned back toward the camp, where the bear was still fighting desperately with the smouldering tent. As they reached the scene they observed Professor Zepplin hurrying to his tent. He was back again almost at once. "Just happened to think of my revolver," he explained. "Think you can kill him with that?" asked Tad. "I don't know. I can try.
I think you must be in error," spoke up the Professor, with quick concern. "He certainly was not with us," insisted Ned. "I did not even see him leave his tent." "Why, he must have gone. With my own eyes I saw him running after you," urged Professor Zepplin in a tone of great anxiety. "Guide, get torches at once. The boy surely is lost."
My father is a banker and everybody does everything he wants them to, because he lends them money," advised Walter wisely. "My my uncle doesn't have to borrow money. He's got money of his own," bristled Chunky. "Yes, that's so. But you go ask him. Tell him about my pony and that we are all going off for a ride every day. Say that Professor Zepplin will be along to take care of us. And say!
"My, but that was a narrow escape," derided Ned. "Just think of it, Professor." "Gid ap," commanded Professor Zepplin. "Look sharp that none of you does worse." Now and then reaching a spot where they could get an unobstructed view of the distance the boys were fairly thrilled by the sight of the jagged peaks, sparkling in the sunlight, many hidden in the clouds and too high to be seen.
"Are you a guide?" asked the Professor. "Me guide." "How old are you?" "Twenty year." "I think that is about it," said the store-keeper. "These natives never know their age exactly." "You look to me more like an Eskimo than an Indian," observed Professor Zepplin. "Me Innuit Siwash. You savvy me?" Stacy scratched his head. "Tell him to talk United States," suggested the fat boy.
"Professor, I have a suggestion to make," said Tad, approaching Professor Zepplin, who was sitting on the edge of his cot, making a meal of a cup of water, seemingly well pleased that that much had been left to him. "I'll hear it, sir." "Will you let me go out with my rifle to look for some game for breakfast? Ned has three shells left in his belt. I think I shall be able to shoot something.
"On a scouting trip." "I cannot consent to any such foolhardy business," answered Professor Zepplin sternly. "It is not foolhardy. We've got to clear up this mystery. Don't you see, we shan't dare go any farther -we simply cannot go into the mountains knowing there is some one there waiting to riddle us the first time he gets a clear sight at us?" "But what do you propose to do?"
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