"Do you
think Fremont knows that you are here?"
Jimmie shook his head.
"I've had to keep back," he said, "and Fremont never will look
my way when I get close up to where he is."
"He ought to know," the drummer said.
"I've done my best," Jimmie said, in a discouraged tone.
Frank Shaw smiled and dropped down behind a huge rock.
"Just wait a minute," he said. "Just wait until I catch me breath,
and I'll put him wise to the fact that there's a Black Bear somewhere
in this turned-up-on-edge country.
Watch, and see him jump."
Frank put his hand to his throat and emitted a growl which would
have done credit to a genuine black bear, a bear in a museum warning
the inquisitive to keep away from his cage. The threatening sound,
however, seemed to come from the other side of the slope where the
prisoner stood.
The Englishman drew a revolver and glanced sharply around, while
the outlaws seized their guns and held them ready for action. It
was clear to the boys that they had been completely deceived by the
signal, and were expecting an attack from the animal at any moment.
Fremont did not seem to notice the signal, which was one the members
of the Black Bear Patrol had long practiced both in the forest and
in their club room, but his eyes were for an instant lifted toward
the hiding place occupied by the three boys.
"He's next," whispered Fenton.
"I should say so," grunted Frank. "I guess he'd know a Black Bear
signal anywhere.
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