78 WILD BROTHER 
“Maybe he the feller that stole molasses,” he 
volunteered. 
We were picking up our things after lunch, — 
for we were on our way back to the settlement, — 
when I saw Joe drop the bear’s paws into a bag 
that he often brought with him for the storage of 
odds and ends. 
“Those are n’t of any use, Joe,” I remonstrated. 
“Why are you going to take them home?” 
“Maybe you see by-em-by,” he chuckled. 
Early in the morning the day after our return, 
the squire came down to the camp in great excite- 
ment. A “busting big bear,” he told us, had come 
right upinto the cow-yard behind the barn duringthe 
night. Tracks in the damp ground had told the story. 
“Yes, sir, he even had the nerve to drink out of 
the cow’s trough,” said the squire, “Come, Joe, 
you set the trap, this time. I’m going to butcher 
a sheep to-day and I’ll give you plenty of bait.” 
Everyone about the place was aroused. It was 
time something was done. This daring beast must 
be taught a lesson. He had killed a sheep, and 
now evidently he wanted a calf. What next? 
Someone suggested that perhaps Bruno’s presence 
had something to do with the bear’s impudence. 
We all went down to the barn to view the tracks. 
Yes, there they were, and big ones too, and plainly 
stamped for all to see. 
