Boy Scouts on the Great Divide Part 13

"Well, here goes, then!" cried Sandy.

Without waiting for his chum he sprang around the corner or the wall, his electric advanced, his automatic ready for instant use. As he turned the corner one foot caught on a loose rock and he half fell to the ground. As he did so, Tommy saw a hairy paw shoot out with vicious force and brush and sc.r.a.pe across the boy's shoulder.

Tommy heard the boy's coat ripping and tearing under the clutch of the great claws, and heard his chum utter a piercing scream as the wicked claws touched the flesh.

It seemed to Tommy that the figure of his chum, now lying prostrate on the floor of the cavern with the head extending outward, was being drawn away from him by the claw which still clung to the shoulder.

He raised his automatic to fire and pushed his searchlight forward. The bear's eyes closed for an instant under the strong finger of light, and the bullet caught him, exactly in the center of the forehead.

He dropped with a savage growl, scrambled, to his feet again and dashed toward Tommy, who fired shot after shot at the advancing animal, but apparently without avail. In a moment all three bears, doubtless excited by the smell of blood, sprang before the entrance to the little cave where Tommy stood. For the moment the animals paid no attention to Sandy, still, lying prostrate on the floor, blood oozing from the wounded shoulder. Tommy fired shot alter shot as the bears came on.

For the first time in his life Tommy realized that the next moment might be his last. He saw Sandy lying bleeding on the floor. He saw three savage, pain-maddened animals rus.h.i.+ng upon him and worked the trigger of his automatic until the clip was spent. Then he hurled the useless weapon at the nearest animal and seizing Sandy by the feet, dragged him farther into the cavern.

"I guess it's all off now," he mused as the bears stood hesitating and apparently ready for a spring. "I wish we'd left a note for Will."

He heard the clatter of sharp claws on the rocky floor, saw the pig-like eyes of the animals s.h.i.+ning red under the light, heard their spasmodic breathing, and was about to make a desperate rush forward when the outer cavern was flooded with a racing light which grew and grew as Tommy looked. Then he heard the sound of feet.

Next came a volley of shots, followed by the shouts of men and the call of a voice that he knew.

"Tommy!" the voice cried.

The boy did not answer instantly, for his eyes were fixed upon the squirming figures of the bears. They had fallen under the shots and were weaving about the floor, snarling and snapping at each other and at themselves in their blind rage.

Several more shots came, and then the animals lay still.

"Tommy!" came the voice again.

"That's Will!" said Sandy faintly.

"Cripes! Are you alive?" demanded Tommy.

"I wouldn't be talking if I was dead, would I?" asked Sandy, speaking in a very faint tone of voice.

"Sandy!" came the voice again.

"h.e.l.lo!" called Tommy.

"Come on out!" cried Will.

"We're coming!" Sandy answered.

The next moment the flashlights carried by Will and George swept into the cavern, revealing the true condition of affairs.

The two boys sprang to Sandy's side and raised him into a sitting position. Sandy smiled weakly but said nothing.

"Where is he hurt?" asked Will, facing Tommy.

Tommy pointed to the boy's bleeding shoulder.

"One of the bears swatted him," he said.

The cowboys now gathered in front of the little cavern and gazed at the group with excited interest.

"What's coming off here?" the sheriff asked.

"This kid's coat's coming off, for one thing," answered Will, with a slight smile as he drew away at one sleeve. "He's been cut by the bear, and we want to see how badly he's wounded."

Seth stepped forward to a.s.sist in the removal of the coat, but the sheriff laid a hand on his arm and drew him back.

"If those two boys have guns," he said, "get them away from them!"

"What's that?" demanded Tommy, gazing at the sheriff indignantly.

"You're all under arrest," thundered the officer, "and I demand that you give up your weapons."

"You'll find my gun out there in the cavern somewhere," Tommy answered.

"I threw it at the bears after the last bullet had been fired."

Will put his hand into Sandy's pocket as if feeling for a gun but found none there. "I dropped it in the cavern," the boy said. "There are no bullets in it, anyway. I shot 'em all at the bear."

Sandy's wound proved to consist only of several scratches in the flesh of the shoulder, but Will explained to the sheriff that it would be necessary to take him out to where water could be obtained in order that the injury might be properly dressed.

"Come along, then," the sheriff consented. "We've had enough of this underground hole, anyway."

Tommy looked longingly at the three dead bears as he pa.s.sed out.

"I'm coming back here to get those rugs," he whispered to Will.

"And I'm coming back here and get some bear steak," George contributed.

"What are you boys talking about?" demanded the sheriff.

"Aw, what's eating you?" demanded Tommy, who did not at all understand the situation. "You want to keep your clam closed."

The sheriff turned back and eyed the boy with anger and amazement depicted on his rather heavy features.

"You're one of these Boy Scouts, I presume?" he snarled.

"Yes, sir," answered Tommy. "Proud of it!"

"Then perhaps you can tell me where those train robbers are hiding."

"I would if I could!" replied the boy.

"What are you kids out at this time of night for, anyway?" was the next question. "You ought to be in bed."

"We came out to gather a couple of bear rugs for a Boy Scout clubroom in Chicago," answered Tommy, with a slight grin in Will's direction.