r.
They broke into the little storehouse and rioted among the provisions.
They gorged themselves with the choicest sorts; and the common stuffs,
like flour, butter, and baking-powder, brought fifty miles on
horseback, were good enough only to be thrown about the ground or
rolled in. Jack had just torn open the last bag of flour, and Jill was
puzzling over a box of miner's dynamite, when the doorway darkened and
there stood Kellyan, a picture of amazement and wrath. Little Bears do
not know anything about pictures, but they have some acquaintance with
wrath. They seemed to know that they were sinning, or at least in
danger, and Jill sneaked, sulky and snuffy, into a dark corner, where
she glared defiantly at the hunter. Jack put his head on one side,
then, quite forgetful of all his misbehavior, he gave a delighted
grunt, and scuttling toward the man, he whined, jerked his nose, and
held up his sticky, greasy arms to be lifted and petted as though he
were the best little Bear in the world.

[Illustration: "JACK ... HELD UP HIS STICKY, GREASY ARMS"]

Alas, how likely we are to be taken at our own estimate! The scowl
faded from the hunter's brow as the cheeky and deplorable little Bear
began to climb his leg. "You little divil," he growled, "I'll break
your cussed neck"; but he did not. He lifted the nasty, sticky little
beast and fondled him as usual, while Jill, no worse--even more
excusable, because less trained--suffered all the terrors of his wrath
and was double-chained to the post, so as to have no further chance of
such ill-doing.

This was a day of bad luck for Kellyan. That morning he had fallen and
broken his rifle. Now, on his return home, he found his provisions
spoiled, and a new trial was before him.

A stranger with a small pack-train called at his place that evening
and passed the night with him. Jack was in his most frolicsome mood
and amused them both with tricks half-puppy and half-monkey like, and
in the morning, when the stranger was leaving, he said: "Say, pard,
I'll give you twenty-five dollars for the pair." Lan hesitated,
thought of the wasted provisions, his empty purse, his broken rifle,
and answered: "Make it fifty and it's a go."

"Shake on it."

So the bargain was made, the money paid, and in fifteen minutes the
stranger was gone with a little Bear in each pannier of his horse.

Jill was surly and silent; Jack kept up a whining that smote on Lan's
heart with a reproachful sound, but