ivets. His ears were round in shape and stuck out in a comical way,
while his round black eyes were bright and sparkling as beads. Over his
shoulder the little brown bear bore a gun with a tin barrel. The barrel
had a cork in the end of it and a string was attached to the cork and to
the handle of the gun.

Both the Frogman and Cayke gazed hard at this curious bear, standing
silent for some time. But finally the Frogman recovered from his
surprise and remarked:

"It seems to me that you are stuffed with sawdust and ought not to be
alive."

"That's all you know about it," answered the little Brown Bear in a
squeaky voice. "I am stuffed with a very good quality of curled hair and
my skin is the best plush that was ever made. As for my being alive,
that is my own affair and cannot concern you at all--except that it
gives me the privilege to say you are my prisoners."

"Prisoners! Why do you speak such nonsense?" asked the Frogman angrily.
"Do you think we are afraid of a toy bear with a toy gun?"

"You ought to be," was the confident reply, "for I am merely the sentry
guarding the way to Bear Center, which is a city containing hundreds of
my race, who are ruled by a very powerful sorcerer known as the Lavender
Bear. He ought to be a purple color, you know, seeing he is a King, but
he's only light lavender, which is, of course, second-cousin to royal
purple. So, unless you come with me peaceably, as my prisoners, I shall
fire my gun and bring a hundred bears--of all sizes and colors--to
capture you."

"Why do you wish to capture us?" inquired the Frogman, who had listened
to this speech with much astonishment.

"I don't wish to, as a matter of fact," replied the little Brown Bear,
"but it is my duty to, because you are now trespassing on the domain of
His Majesty the King of Bear Center. Also I will admit that things are
rather quiet in our city, just now, and the excitement of your capture,
followed by your trial and execution, should afford us much
entertainment."

"We defy you!" said the Frogman.

"Oh, no; don't do that," pleaded Cayke, speaking to her companion. "He
says his King is a sorcerer, so perhaps it is he or one of his bears who
ventured to steal my jeweled dishpan. Let us go to the City of the Bears
and discover if my dishpan is there."

"I must now register one more charge against you," remarked the little
Brown Bear, with evident satisfaction. "You have just accused us of
stealing, and that is s