ked Tom. "A regular Sherlock Holmes! Perhaps he stood on
a ladder or a chair. I've heard that grizzlies carry such things about
with them when strolling in the woods. Come along, old man," he bantered,
"or these squirrels will think you're a nut and carry you off. There's
nothing this side of a nightmare that'll fit your theory, and you'd
better give it up and come along with us sensible people."

"But what did do it, then?" asked Bert obstinately.

"Search me," answered Tom flippantly. "I don't have to know. I'm not
cursed with curiosity so much as some people I could mention. What I do
know is that we're losing time and that I'm fairly aching to bait my hook
and fling it into the water. We've promised Mrs. Melton a big mess of
fish for supper, and we've got to get busy, or she'll think we're a lot
of four-flushers."

They picked up their traps that they had laid aside while they were
studying the bark. Tom and Dick kept up a steady fire of jokes, their
spirits lightened by the evidence that the "ghost" of the grizzly had
been "laid." But Bert answered only in monosyllables. He would have been
as relieved as they had he been able to convince himself that he was
wrong. He "hadn't lost any bear," and was not particularly anxious to
"meet up" with one, especially a monster of the size indicated. Suddenly
he dropped the basket.

"I've got it," he exclaimed eagerly.

"No, you haven't," contradicted Dick. "You've just dropped it."

"What have you got?" mocked Tom. "A fit?"

"The answer," said Bert.

"Prove it," challenged Dick.

"I'm from Missouri," said Tom skeptically.

"Why, it's this way," hurried on Bert, too engrossed in his solution to
retort in kind. "Sandy was telling me a little while ago about the habits
of grizzlies, and he mentioned especially the trick they have of standing
on their hind legs and clawing at trees as high as they could reach. But
I remember he said they did this only in the spring. They've just come
out of winter quarters and they feel the need of stretching their muscles
that have got cramped during their long sleep. In the spring, the early
spring. Don't you see?"

"Not exactly," confessed Dick.

"No, Sherlock," murmured Tom, "I don't follow you."

"Why," said Bert impatiently, "don't you boobs realize that up in the
mountains here the snow is often four or five feet deep in the early
spring? How could the grizzly reach that high? _Because he stood on a
snowbank._"

"By Jove,