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ed Tom, but, apparently thinking him unworthy of notice, he just growled a little and


resumed his post beneath the tree. “It’s me he wants,” cried the man besieged. ?/p> t. By


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癠gh, you brute! I wish I could wound you mortally, and see your dying agonies.” The bear listened very complacently, evidently fe

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eling that the advantage was on his side. “Come, boy, are you going to shoot?” asked the man in the tree. Tom did not answer.

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He was carefully taking aim. He was fully conscious that his own personal safety depended upon the effectiveness of his shot. In fa


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ct, his safest course would have been to leave the spot and the beleaguered man to his fate. But Tom was not that kind of a boy. He wa

s bold and courageous, and he would have been ashamed if he had coolly deserted a man whom it was in his power to help, at however great danger to himself. 217 “At a glance Tom saw the Bear watching the man crouching among the branches.”—Page 217. Tom Thatcher’s Fortune. 218 So he quietly and carefully took aim, and then pulled t

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this time the bear ha

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the tree he had selected for a refuge before he ventured to look at his enemy. His heart was elate with joy and triumph when he saw how effective had been his shot. It was no light thing for a boy not yet seventeen to bring down the monarch of the California forests. The bea

r made a few convulsive movements, and then settled into the rigidity of death. “He’s done for!” exclaimed the stranger joyfully, preparing to descend the tree. “He will never trouble us any more.” “Then I’ll come down,” said Tom. Together they met beside the huge beast. Then the stranger, turning to Tom, said: “My young friend, you have saved my life. That is a debt I ne