In a frenzy lest they might not be able to save Tom, Larry and
Horace both fired.
At the impact of the bullets the bear rose on his hind legs, swung
wildly with his paws at the steel barrels that were pouring the
terribly painful things into him and fell prone, the huge carcass
missing Tom by less than a foot.
CHAPTER XVII
LOST!
From the moment when his brother had cried to him to drop, Tom had
kept his eyes on the bear, and when he saw the beast plunge forward
and realized that it was dead, he leaped to his feet, his pale face
telling of the awful strain under which he had been.
The reaction from their excitement made Larry and Horace tremble
and, for the time, they could only look from their companion to the
carcass of the bear, too unnerved to speak.
Tom was the first to recover from the fright, and he thanked the
others for what they had done.
"Let's not talk about it," interposed Larry. "The thing for us to
do is to get out of here lively. The reverberations from those
shots are echoing yet. The raiders must have heard them, and
they'll know some one is on their trail, so they will either come
back to sec who it is or else hide to waylay us."
Tom and Horace were perfectly willing to give up following the
trail farther, and all three were retracing their steps when the
elder of the chums cried:
"The rifle! Tom, you forgot to pick up your rifle.
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