“You come in house with me,” Giova assured her, “I feex you so your own mother no know you. You mens come too. I geeve you what to wear like Gypsy mens. We got lots things. My father, him he steal many things from our people after they drive us out. He go back by nights an' steal.” The three followed her toward the little hovel since there seemed no better plan than that which she had offered. Giova and the other girl were in the lead, followed by Bridge and the boy. The latter turned to the man and placed a hand upon his arm. “Why don't you leave us,” he asked. “You have done nothing. No one is looking for you. Why don't you go your way and save yourself from suspicion.” Bridge did not reply. “I believe,” the youth went on, “that you are doing it for me; but why I can't guess.” “Maybe I am,” Bridge half acknowledged. “You're a good little kid, but you need someone to look after you. It would be easier though if you'd tell me the truth about yourself, which you certainly haven't up to now.” “Please don't ask me,” begged the boy. “I can't; honestly I can't.” “Is it as bad as that?” asked the man. “Oh, it's worse,” cried The Oskaloosa Kid. “It's a thousand times worse. Don't make me tell you, for if I do tell I shall have to leave you, and--and, oh, Bridge, I don't want to leave you--ever!” They had reached the door of the cabin now and were looking in past the girl who had halted there as Giova entered. Before them was a small room in which a large, vicious looking brown bear was chained. “Behold our ghost of last night!” exclaimed Bridge. “By George! though, I'd as soon have hunted a real ghost in the dark as to have run into this fellow.” “Did you know last night that it was a bear?” asked the Kid. “You told Giova that you followed the footprints of herself and her bear; but you had not said anything about a bear to us.” “I had an idea last night,” explained Bridge, “that the sounds were produced by some animal dragging a chain; but I couldn't prove it and so I said nothing, and then this morning while we were following the trail I made up my mind that it was a bear. There were two facts which argued that such was the case. The first is that I don't believe in ghosts and that even if I did I would not expect a ghost to leave footprints in the mud, and the other is that I knew that the footprints of a bear are strangely similar to those of the naked feet of man. Then when I saw the Gypsy girl I was sure that what we had heard last night was nothing more nor less than a trained bear. The dress and appearance of the dead man lent themselves to a furtherance of my belief and the wisp of brown hair clutched in his fingers added still further proof.”