uch a dreadful thing to say that I am quite sure
our noble King will command you to be executed."

"But how could you execute us?" inquired the Cookie Cook.

"I've no idea. But our King is a wonderful inventor and there is no
doubt he can find a proper way to destroy you. So, tell me, are you
going to struggle, or will you go peaceably to meet your doom?"

It was all so ridiculous that Cayke laughed aloud and even the Frogman's
wide mouth curled in a smile. Neither was a bit afraid to go to the Bear
City and it seemed to both that there was a possibility they might
discover the missing dishpan. So the Frogman said:

"Lead the way, little Bear, and we will follow without a struggle."

"That's very sensible of you; very sensible, indeed!" declared the Brown
Bear. "So--for-ward _march_!" and with the command he turned around and
began to waddle along a path that led between the trees.

Cayke and the Frogman, as they followed their conductor, could scarce
forbear laughing at his stiff, awkward manner of walking and, although
he moved his stuffy legs fast, his steps were so short that they had to
go slowly in order not to run into him. But after a time they reached a
large, circular space in the center of the forest, which was clear of
any stumps or underbrush. The ground was covered by a soft gray moss,
pleasant to tread upon. All the trees surrounding this space seemed to
be hollow and had round holes in their trunks, set a little way above
the ground, but otherwise there was nothing unusual about the place and
nothing, in the opinion of the prisoners, to indicate a settlement. But
the little Brown Bear said in a proud and impressive voice (although it
still squeaked):

"This is the wonderful city known to fame as Bear Center!"

"But there are no houses; there are no bears living here at all!"
exclaimed Cayke.

"Oh, indeed!" retorted their captor and raising his gun he pulled the
trigger. The cork flew out of the tin barrel with a loud "pop!" and at
once from every hole in every tree within view of the clearing appeared
the head of a bear. They were of many colors and of many sizes, but
all were made in the same manner as the bear who had met and captured
them.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

At first a chorus of growls arose and then a sharp voice cried:

"What has happened, Corporal Waddle?"

"Captives, Your Majesty!" answered the Brown Bear. "Intruders upon our
domain and slanderers of our good name."