Father Bear gripped him a little harder.
But just then the boy heard something click very close to them, and saw the muzzle of a rifle two paces away.
"Father Bear! Don't you hear the clicking of a trigger?" cried the boy. "Run, or you'll be shot!"
Father Bear grew terribly hurried. He thought he heard hounds and hunters pursuing him.
But the boy stood in the forest, free and unharmed, and could hardly understand how it was possible.
Jericho Bob[1]
Jericho Bob, when he was four years old, hoped that one day he might be allowed to eat just as much turkey as he possibly could. He was eight now, but that hope had not been realized.
Mrs. Jericho Bob, his mother, kept hens for a living, and she expected that they would lay enough eggs in the course of time to help her son to an independent career as a boot-*black.
They lived in a tumbledown house in a
- ↑ By Mrs. John Lane, in St. Nicholas. By permission of the author and publishers.
