Bo liked nothing better than a rough-and-tumble frolic with the black bear. Muss was not very big nor very heavy, and in a wrestling bout with the strong and wiry girl he sometimes came out second best. It spoke well of him that he seemed to be careful not to hurt Bo. He never bit or scratched, though he sometimes gave her sounding slaps with his paws. Whereupon, Bo would clench her gauntleted fists and sail into him in earnest. One afternoon before the early supper they always had, Dale and Helen were watching Bo teasing the bear. She was in her most vixenish mood, full of life and fight. Tom lay his long length on the grass, watching with narrow, gleaming eyes. When Bo and Muss locked in an embrace and went down to roll over and over, Dale called Helen's attention to the cougar. “Tom's jealous. It's strange how animals are like people. Pretty soon I'll have to corral Muss, or there'll be a fight.” Helen could not see anything wrong with Tom except that he did not look playful. During supper-time both bear and cougar disappeared, though this was not remarked until afterward. Dale whistled and called, but the rival pets did not return. Next morning Tom was there, curled up snugly at the foot of Bo's bed, and when she arose he followed her around as usual. But Muss did not return. The circumstance made Dale anxious. He left camp, taking Tom with him, and upon returning stated that he had followed Muss's track as far as possible, and then had tried to put Tom on the trail, but the cougar would not or could not follow it. Dale said Tom never liked a bear trail, anyway, cougars and bears being common enemies. So, whether by accident or design, Bo lost one of her playmates. The hunter searched some of the slopes next day and even went up on one of the mountains. He did not discover any sign of Muss, but he said he had found something else. “Bo you girls want some more real excitement?” he asked. Helen smiled her acquiescence and Bo replied with one of her forceful speeches. “Don't mind bein' good an' scared?” he went on. “You can't scare me,” bantered Bo. But Helen looked doubtful. “Up in one of the parks I ran across one of my horses--a lame bay you haven't seen. Well, he had been killed by that old silvertip. The one we chased. Hadn't been dead over an hour. Blood was still runnin' an' only a little meat eaten. That bear heard me or saw me an' made off into the woods. But he'll come back to-night. I'm goin' up there, lay for him, an' kill him this time. Reckon you'd better go, because I don't want to leave you here alone at night.” “Are you going to take Tom?” asked Bo. “No. The bear might get his scent. An', besides, Tom ain't reliable on bears. I'll leave Pedro home, too.”