ion never arrived!

It was a month before their secret was fully disclosed. It was slowly
evolved from corroborating circumstances, but always with a shy
reluctance from the boys themselves, and a surprise that any one should
think it of importance. It was gathered partly from details picked up at
recess or on the playground, from the voluntary testimony of teamsters
and packers, from a record in the county newspaper, but always shaping
itself into a consecutive and harmonious narrative.

It was a story so replete with marvelous escape and adventure that the
master hesitated to accept it in its entirety until after it had
long become a familiar history, and was even forgotten by the actors
themselves. And even now he transcribes it more from the circumstances
that surrounded it than from a hope that the story will be believed.

WHAT HAPPENED

Master Provy Smith had started out that eventful morning with the
intention of fighting Master Jackson Tribbs for the "Kingship" of
Table Ridge--a trifling territory of ten leagues square--Tribbs having
infringed on his boundaries and claimed absolute sovereignty over
the whole mountain range. Julian Fleming was present as referee and
bottle-holder. The battle ground selected was the highest part of the
ridge. The hour was six o'clock, which would allow them time to reach
school before its opening, with all traces of their conflict removed.
The air was crisp and cold,--a trifle colder than usual,--and there was
a singular thickening of the sun's rays on the ridge, which made the
distant peaks indistinct and ghostlike. However, the two combatants
stripped "to the buff," and Fleming patronizingly took position at the
"corner," leaning upon a rifle, which, by reason of his superior years,
and the wilderness he was obliged to traverse in going to school, his
father had lent him to carry. It was that day a providential weapon.

Suddenly, Fleming uttered the word, "Sho!" The two combatants paused in
their first "squaring off" to see, to their surprise, that their referee
had faced round, with his gun in his hand, and was staring in another
direction.

"B'ar!" shouted the three voices together. A huge bear, followed by its
cubs, was seen stumbling awkwardly away to the right, making for the
timber below. In an instant the boys had hurried into their jackets
again, and the glory of fight was forgotten in the fever of the chase.
Why should they pound each other when there was someth