Baldy Malloy headed straight toward his own shack, going down the main street, clinging tightly to Whizzer, who was willing to ride, even if he did not understand what it was all about.
As they came past McGill’s saloon, McGill, a portly, hard-faced man, stopped them and asked Baldy what had caused all the excitement up the street. There were three other men with McGill.
“Didn’t yuh see it?” asked Baldy hoarsely.
“Wouldn’t ask you, if we did?” growled McGill. “We was playin’ poker and heard them shots fired.”
Baldy stood the boy up on the sidewalk while he hastily sketched out what had been done.
“And he rode that bear, straight-up, made him let go of Whizzer, and then killed the bear with his six-g*n,” finished Baldy.
McGill spat thoughtfully and squinted at the three men in the doo
