y faint tone of voice.

"Sandy!" came the voice again.

"Hello!" 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 assist 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 passed 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.