pening. It was. My tent was moving--actually
bounding over rocks and hummocks.

"Believing myself the victim of a practical joke, I sprang out and
brought my fish-pole down on what I supposed to be the head of a fellow
disguised in a big overcoat. There was a roar that was plainly heard for
miles, and a monster grizzly struck at me.

"If it had not been for my presence of mind, that would have been the
end of me. Now it was all that saved me. As the bear, on his hind legs,
came toward me with his arms outstretched, to grapple, I ducked and came
up between them, and so close to his body that he was unable to sink his
terrible claws into me.

"He let out another roar--simply appalling--it will ring in my ears
forever--almost deafened me. Again my remarkable presence of mind came
to my rescue. I reached up and held his jaws open. It was my purpose to
dislocate the lower one, if possible.

"For fifteen minutes--twenty--perhaps--we fought desperately. Writhing,
struggling, I could feel the brute's hot breath on my face and his
lolling tongue dripped saliva. Finally, his heavy breathing told me he
was getting winded, and I knew that if my strength did not fail me I
should be the victor. Fortunately, I was in splendid physical condition.
Not once did I lose my presence of mind in this terrible crisis. I was
as calm as I am this minute, while the bear was letting out roars of
rage and pain that curdled the blood of those who heard them.

"At last I made a superhuman effort and backed the brute up against a
tree. Gripping his nose and jaw, I had doubled up my leg and thrust my
knee into his stomach, which was of course cruel punishment--when, just
then----"

A slight cough made Mr. Penrose turn quickly. Miss Mattie Gaskett, whose
eyes were nearly as large as Mr. Cone's at this version of the
encounter, was standing behind him with "Cutie" in a wicker basket.

Mr. Penrose looked disconcerted for a moment, and then that presence of
mind of which he boasted came to his assistance and he said
ingratiatingly:

"This young lady will vouch for the fact that my clothes were in
shreds--ribbons----"

"Why--er--yes, you had lost your shirt bosom," Miss Gaskett agreed,
doubtfully.

Remarking that he would finish the story when Mr. Cone had more leisure,
Mr. Penrose "skedaddled" after the bell-boy with unmistakable alacrity.

"And how is kitty?" inquired Mr. Cone, beaming upon Miss Gaskett. "Did
you take her with you this summe