straight face.

“Why, yes, I got on to that wrinkle, all right,” replied the other, “because I could see him trying to fall on the fish every chance he had. But I objected to turning over my last catch to the old scoundrel; even if the line hadn’t gone and got fast to my leg I don’t believe I’d have let him have it, unless it came to nip and tuck with me.”

“Well, you have plenty of time to gather another lot of fish, Lub,” suggested Ethan; “and after all, your adventure has been the means of gaining us our first fresh meat in Canada. We paid enough for our licenses to hunt up here to want to get the worth of our good money.”

“And, Phil, don’t you think I’ve got a right to call him my bear?” asked Lub, as if struck with a sudden inspiration.

“What! after the two of us shot him?” ejaculated Ethan.

“But didn’t I lure him along with my trailing muscalonge?” demanded Lub, triumphantly; “if it hadn’t been for me fishing so industriously out here on the ice, and tempting Bruin to show himself, would you have had a chance to shoot? I guess not. You only finished my work for me; I must have had him all tired out running.”

Ethan wore a wide grin by that time.

“Sure you did, Lub,” he declared frankly, with a wink toward Phil; “anybody could see that you meant to wear him down to his death. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, and if you’d kept him going long enough there isn’t any doubt but that the poor thing would have turned up his toes without a single shot being fired. We’ll call him Lub’s coaxed bear after this.”

“There’s two of your tip-ups acting crazy, Lub,” called out X-Ray just then; “and you’d better be taking off the fish you’ll find on the hooks.”

“Isn’t this the greatest sort of sport though?” said Lub, as he started off to attend to his lines.

“It certainly couldn’t well be beaten!” admitted Phil, as he and his two comrades indulged in a fit of laughter that was none the less vigorous because they chose to keep it silent, out of consideration for the feelings of their beloved fat chum.

“I wonder how it comes this chap hadn’t gone into winter quarters yet?” Ethan remarked, poking the dead bear with the toe of his boot. “Down our way they can seldom be seen after the first snowfall, and never come out until there is a regular break-up of winter.”

“Well, away up here the winter lasts much longer, and that would account for it,” Phil suggested. “They may want to stay out to the very last, knowing how it holds on away up to May. But no matter what the cause, this fine fat fellow stayed out too long.”

“He’ll not hibernate any more if we know it,” observed X-Ray Tyson, with a satisfied smirk; “instead he’ll help to fill up four hungry chaps I happen to be acquainted with. And after all what nobler end could any bear wish to come to than that?”

Two of the boys returned, to get busy again on the shack; while Phil stayed out on the ice to attend to taking the hide from the dead bear, and securing what choice portions they wanted.

It promised to be a long task, but Phil did it, as he was in the habit of doing everything he undertook, with exactness. Lub kept on taking more fish, though whenever he found a breathing spell between bites he would amble over to watch what Phil was doing, and make remarks.

“I’ll have that skin made into a fine rug, some of these days,” he declared, as he ran his hand over the silky hair; “and every time I look at it I’ll remember what a great time I had luring the beast within range of your guns.”

“What would have been your plan of campaign, Lub, in case we had not happened to be within hailing distance?” asked Phil, looking quite innocent as he said it.

Lub gave him rather a suspicious glance, and then replied loftily:

“Oh! I don’t know. To be frank I hadn’t reached that point. Mebbe I might have used my knife, and cut the fish line, so he could grab the muscalonge. Then while he was devouring that I might have found a chance to sneak up behind and finish the rascal with one sure blow from my trusty hunting knife. Course I don’t actually say I would have done that; but it might have occurred to me, you know.”

When Phil allowed his memory to go back and recall the look of terror he had seen on Lub’s white face he decided in his own mind that there was about as much chance of such a wonderful feat being carried out as there was of Lub developing wings and flying.

“You’re getting as many fish as we can well use, I reckon, Lub?” he remarked, to change the subject.

“Sure thing, Phil; and after I pull in three more I think I’ll call it off for to-day. I’ve covered a good many miles, running from one hole to another, and back again over the whole line. I didn’t come up here to reduce myself to a shadow, you know. Over-work is a bad thing for a growing boy, they say.”

“There’s only one thing I’ll always be sorry for, Lub.”

“You mean about this bear adventure, don’t you?” asked the other, suspiciously.

“Yes. I should have kept my wits about me and have done it, too.”

“What was that, Phil?”

“Snatched up my camera and managed to snap off a picture of how you lured your bear into the trap. Some of our boy friends down Brewster-way would like to see it. They may be inclined to doubt more or less when they hear the story; but that would be proof they’d have to accept as genuine, Lub.”

The fat boy seemed to consider it for a brief time.

When he turned to meet Phil’s gaze again there was a whimsical expression on his face that spoke volumes.

“Well, on the whole, Phil,” he went on to say, “I guess I’m just as glad you did forget to grab up your camera that time. You see, in telling a story a fellow might accidentally embellish just a little more each time; and a picture is a terrible accusation, for it keeps you pinned down close to facts. There, I’ve got a bite on two lines. Whoof, hold on!”