"
The boy meant to use the last moment to think out some way to save
himself, but, anxious and distraught as he was, his thoughts wandered
again. Now he began thinking of all that he had seen when he flew over
the mining districts. It was strange that there should be so much life
and activity and so much work back there in the wilderness.
"Just think how poor and desolate this place would be had there been no
iron here!
"This very foundry gave employment to many, and had gathered around it
many homes filled with people, who, in turn, had attracted hither
railways and telegraph wires and--"
"Come, come!" growled the bear. "Will you or won't you?"
The boy swept his hand across his forehead. No plan of escape had as yet
come to his mind, but this much he knew--he did not wish to do any harm
to the iron, which was so useful to rich and poor alike, and which gave
bread to so many people in this land.
"I won't!" he said.
Father Bear squeezed him a little harder, but said nothing.
"You'll not get me to destroy the ironworks!" defied the boy. "The iron
is so great a blessing that it will never do to harm it."
"Then of course you don't expect to be allowed to live very long?" said
the bear.
"No, I don't expect it," returned the boy, looking the bear straight in
the eye.
Father Bear gripped him still harder.
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