e bear's hug, but he could not hold out long.
Barely had he uttered the last words when, with a sudden blow of one
paw, the grizzly struck him to the ground.

Frank rushed in, seeing the monster settle on all fours over Old Rocks.

"I'll fix him!" grated the boy, as he thrust the muzzle of his rifle
almost against bruin's head and pulled the trigger.

For the first time on record the weapon missed fire.

With a fierce growl, the bear whirled and knocked the rifle out of
Frank's grasp.

In a dazed manner, Old Rocks saw everything.

"Ther kid's a goner!" thought the guide. "We're both done fer!"

Out Frank snapped a revolver, and then, taking a step toward the bear,
he fired five bullets into the creature in marvelously rapid succession.

A roar came from the bear's throat, and the beast reared on its hind
feet, its jaws dripping blood and foam, and rushed upon the dauntless
boy.

Frank flung aside the revolver, just as Rocks struggled to a sitting
posture, thickly crying:

"Run, kid! run fer yer life!"

"Not much!" came through Frank's set teeth. "Think I'd run and leave you
to the bear! I guess not!"

"Dog my cats!" murmured the guide, weakly.

The bear, dripping blood from its many wounds, still fierce as a raging
tiger, came at Frank. The boy dodged, managed to avoid the rush, and
gave the beast a wicked stab with the knife.

"Dog my cats!" murmured the dazed guide once more.

Frank Merriwell's face bore a look of fearless determination, and he was
ready for the bear to charge again.

It came.

Frank tried to repeat the trick, slipped a bit, saw he could not escape,
and then met the formidable beast.

"Now he is a goner!" gurgled Old Rocks, faintly.

With outstretched paws the bear closed in.

Frank saw he was not going to be able to escape the hug, and he placed
the haft of the knife against his own breast, with the point directed
toward the bear.

The grizzly folded Frank in his embrace, crushing the lad against his
shaggy breast, and, in this way, the creature drove the knife home to
its own heart.

Uttering a great groan, it relaxed its hold, dropped on all fours, hung
its head, and then sunk in a heap upon the ground, dying.

Frank felt as if his ribs had been crushed, and he was covered with
blood, but he had conquered.

Old Rocks was so dazed that he sat on the ground, staring at the
"tenderfoot kid," and faintly gasping:

"Dog my cats!"

Frank flung the knife to the ground, a