"Look out there!" shouted one of the cowboys.

"Run, boys!" exclaimed Frank as he started to turn his pony around so as
to get beyond reach of the rapidly advancing bear.

He had just succeeded in doing this, and even started to gallop away,
when he saw a sight that almost froze the blood in his veins.

Jerry had, of course, intended doing a similar vamoosing stunt. It
happened, however, that his horse was more frightened than those of the
others. When he jerked at the bridle the beast whirled with such a
vicious fling that the boy, totally unprepared for such a move, and
unable to get the grip with his knees that a cowboy always secures, went
toppling over his head.

Frank, looking over his shoulder as he was borne rapidly away by his own
alarmed steed, saw Jerry scramble to his knees. At any rate, he thought
with relief, the other had escaped a broken neck in his ugly tumble.

Still, with that enraged grizzly bearing swiftly down upon him, in
spite of the one rope that still held taut, the position of poor Jerry
was not the most pleasant in the world.

Frank's first and only inspiration was to turn his horse around and rush
back to the assistance of his chum. It never occurred to him that being
without his own rifle, he would only be adding to the trouble by
offering Bruin a double sacrifice.

His pony, however, offered serious objections to facing that roaring
hurricane of a beast. Despite Frank's most strenuous efforts, he could