our before.
Then the odds had been against the fugitive; now they were with him.
The rage of the bear was greater, but his speed and strength were
failing. Bert easily increased his distance, and as he ran his quick mind
formed a plan of action.

Running in a circle, he gradually drew his pursuer around to the tree
where he had sought refuge. He had figured on grabbing one of the guns
and shinning up to the friendly crotch, there to despatch his foe at
leisure. But as he rose with the rifle in his hand he saw that there was
no time for this.

Dropping on one knee he took careful aim, and as the grizzly rose on its
hind legs to grasp him, fired point blank at the spot just below the fore
leg that marked the heart. Then he jumped aside.

The bear spun around once, toppled and fell with a tremendous crash on
the spot where Bert had been a moment before.

Once more Bert raised his rifle, looking narrowly for any sign of life.
But the last bullet had done the work. A convulsive shudder ran through
the bear's enormous length. Then he stiffened out and a glaze crept over
the wicked eyes. He had fought his last fight.

And as Bert looked down at him, his relief and exultation were tempered
by a feeling of respect for the brute's courage. Never for a moment had
he shown the white feather. He had fought gallantly and gone down
fighting.

Tom and Dick, who had now rejoined him, shared his feeling.

"Nothing 'yellow' about that old rascal but his hide," commented Dick.

"A fighter from Fightersville," added Tom.

When their jubilation had somewhat subsided, they measured their quarry.

"Ten feet four inches, from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail,"
announced Tom. "Gee, but he's a monster."

"The daddy of them all," said Dick.

"He must weigh over half a ton," judged Bert.

They looked with a shudder at the terrible claws and fangs.

"They say that a grizzly has forty-two teeth," remarked Tom, "but I
thought he had forty-two thousand when he was bearing down upon us with
his mouth open."

"Well, now the question is what are we going to do with him," said Dick.

"That's a pleasant way to put it," laughed Bert. "A little while ago the
question was what was he going to do with us."

"I don't know," he mused, "what we can do. We can't skin him, because we
haven't the proper knives, and then, too, it takes an expert to get that
hide off without spoiling it. On the other hand, we can't leave it here
and expe