’round here. Let the bear go. When I want her killed, I’ll do it myself.”
“But you promised me I should shoot the next one,” reminded Bub, much surprised.
“I know, I know. And so ye shall when we git one that’s ready to be shot,” testily replied Abner. “But it seems yer friend has struck up a friendship with this partic’lar bear and wants her let alone. He’s so fond of her he goes over and visits when he oughter be catching trout fer supper.”
“If you’d seen the cubs,” cried Stanley. “Why, Bub, they are the cutest little things you ever imagined. Abner promised he wouldn’t harm the mother as the cubs need her. She has done nothing a human mother wouldn’t have done. I am the one in fault.”
“Of course if you put it that way I’ll have to let her go,” sighed Bub. “But bear pelts are worth something, Mister Malcolm.”
“And I’ll make it up to you at double the value of her pelt,” eagerly promised Stanley.
Bub grinned and Abner winked slowly. Stanley flushed to his ears and mumbled, “I forgot. It may be some time before I can square it off.”
“That’s better,” said Abner. “Never promise what ye can’t do.”
