“Good boy,” approved Bub, heartily. “That’s the way to talk. If they’ve captured Ab and find we’ve skipped they’ll never expect us to come around their camp; and we’ll snag Abner free or get caught ourselves. If I only had a rifle!”
“I shall always feel kindly towards bears,” mused Stanley.
“And baked beans,” thoughtfully added Bub.
“Why! that reminds me,” gasped Stanley. “Why didn’t we think to take some of the provisions? We left blankets, food and everything.” And he halted irresolute. “Shall we go back and get them?”
“What!” cried the horrified Bub. “Go back there? Why, Stan, I’d die a hundred times out here in the woods first. You have a knife; let’s cut two stout cudgels. They will be better than nothing.”
“That’s all I had when I hit Big Nick,” reminded Stanley. “Then we can fasten the knife onto a pole and spear some fish. We won’t starve.”
“I should say not,” cried Bub. “It’s easy to get food in the woods. The only thing that worries me is where we can find Abner.”
Stanley thought long and earnestly and then
