Free Freddy Goes to the North Pole by Walter R. Brooks

through bushes and briers and along deer paths, as fast as he could go, for by the thumping and swishing and crackling behind him he knew that that terrible animal was close on his heels.
    Pretty soon he heard a hoarse voice behind him: “Hey, wait a minute.”

    Pretty soon he heard a hoarse voice behind him, “ Hey, wait a minute ”
    â€œYes, I will!” the dog jeered over his shoulder, without slackening his pace.
    â€œWait a minute,” repeated the other animal. “I want to talk to you.”
    â€œWell, go on,” barked Jack. “I’m listening.”
    â€œDon’t be funny,” replied the other crossly. “How can I talk this way?”
    â€œYou seem to be doing pretty well,” said Jack.
    â€œOh, you make me tired!” returned the pursuer.
    â€œJust what I’m trying to do,” snapped Jack. Then he laughed. “That was a pretty good one, eh what?” he inquired.
    â€œOh, you’re a wit all right,” grunted the other. “But what’s the sense of all this running? I’m not chasing you. I’m running away too.”
    â€œRunning away from an empty cupboard,” said Jack. “I know. You aren’t chasing me. You’re taking your supper out for a little exercise.”
    â€œNonsense,” grumbled the pursuer.” Bears don’t eat dogs.”
    â€œHey!” barked Jack in surprise. “Are you a bear?” But still he didn’t slow up.
    â€œSure I am,” came the reply. “But I can’t talk like this. Stop and sit down a minute.”
    â€œYou stop first,” said Jack, leaping over a little stream.
    â€œYes, and you’ll go on running,” objected the bear as he splashed through the shallow water.
    â€œNo, I won’t. I’ll take two more jumps after you stop, and then I’ll stop. And then we can talk if you want to so bad.”
    So they worked it that way.
    â€œNow,” said the bear, when they had got their breath back and were sitting facing each other some distance apart in the dark woods, “what I wanted to say to you was this: I don’t suppose you’re any friend to that man and woman you came to my cave with or you’d have stayed with them when I came out. Is that so?”
    â€œThey’re no friends of mine,” said Jack.
    â€œGood. They’re no friends of mine either. They’ve been hunting me with a gun ever since I came into these parts, three years ago. It’s got so I can hardly stick my nose outside my cave nowadays without hearing that gun go bang and feeling a bullet whiz through my fur. Up to now I’ve been safe in the cave, but now they know where it is, I shan’t be able to live there any longer. And being as you’re the one that brought ’em there—”
    â€œGosh, I’m sorry,” said Jack. “I didn’t know—”
    â€œI know you didn’t,” said the bear. “But you brought ’em, anyway. I don’t bear any grudge, but it seems to me you have a certain responsibility, and for that reason maybe you’d be willing to help me.”
    â€œSure,” said Jack heartily, “anything I can do.”
    â€œWell, then,” said the bear, “I’m a peaceable animal. What I want is a nice quiet home and three square meals a day—nothing fancy, you understand, just a comfortable den and good plain food. But the woods are no place for bears nowadays—haven’t been since my grandfather was a cub. There’s too much talk in the cities nowadays about back to nature. I don’t object to men going back to nature, but I don’t see why they have to take a gun with them. This time of year there are more hunters in the woods than there are animals. What I want is peace and quiet. And I thought maybe you could help me find it.”
    â€œWhy, so I can,” said Jack—“or could if I weren’t going in the opposite