"It hurt me," he said. "They were so big, and good-natured, and
helpless. I'll bet that woman beats them! I kept thinking of them as
they were in the woods, tramping over the clean pine needles, eating
nuts, and--and honey, and----"

"Buns!" suggested Jackson.

"I can't forget them," said Herrick. "It's going to haunt me, to-morrow,
when I'm back in the woods; I'll think of those poor beasts capering
in a hot theatre, when they ought to be out in the open as God meant
they----"

"Well, then," protested Kelly, "take 'em to the open. And turn 'em
loose! And I hope they bite YOU!"

At this Herrick frowned so deeply that Kelly feared he had gone too far.
Inwardly, he reproved himself for not remembering that his friend lacked
a sense of humor. But Herrick undeceived him.

"You are right!" he exclaimed. "To-morrow I will buy those bears, take
them to the farm, and turn them loose!"

No objections his friend could offer could divert him from his purpose.
When they urged that to spend so much money in such a manner was
criminally wasteful, he pointed out that he was sufficiently rich to
indulge any extravagant fancy, whether in polo ponies or bears; when
they warned him that if he did not look out the bears would catch him
alone in the woods, and eat him, he retorted that the bears were now
educated to a different diet; when they said he should consider the
peace of mind of his neighbors, he assured them the fence around his
game preserve would restrain an elephant.

"Besides," protested Kelly, "what you propose to do is not only
impracticable, but it's cruelty to animals. A domesticated animal can't
return to a state of nature, and live."

"Can't it?" jeered Herrick. "Did you ever read 'The Call of the Wild'?"

"Did you ever read," retorted Kelly, "what happened at the siege of
Ladysmith when the oats ran low and they drove the artillery horses out
to grass? They starved, that's all. And if you don't feed your bears on
milk out of a bottle they'll starve too."

"That's what will happen," cried Jackson; "those bears have forgotten
what a pine forest smells like. Maybe it's a pity, but it's the fact.
I'll bet if you could ask them whether they'd rather sleep in a cave
on your farm or be headliners in vaudeville, they'd tell you they were
'devoted to their art.'"

"Why!" exclaimed Kelly, "they're so far from nature that if they didn't
have that colored boy to comb and brush them twice a day they'd be
ashamed to l