"
"Then our only chance to save him is to fill the barrel quickly.
We must freeze him, and freeze him well, before it is too late!
By Jove! I'm glad I thought of it!"
Stover turned to his men. "Four of you-all hustle up a couple
hundred pounds of that ice _pronto!_ Crack it, an' fill the
bar'l." There was a scramble for the door.
"And there's something else, too," went on Berkeley. "He's being
fed wrong for his last days of training. The idea of a man eating
lamb-chops, fried eggs, oatmeal, and all that debilitating stuff!
Those girls overload his stomach. Why, he ought to have something
to make him strong--fierce!"
"Name it," said Willie, shortly.
"Something like--like--bear meat."
"We ain't got no bear." Willie looked chagrined.
"This ain't their habitat," added Stover apologetically.
"Well, he ought to have meat, and it ought to be wild--raw, if
possible."
"There ain't nothin' wilder 'n a long-horn. We can git him a
steer."
"You are sure the meat isn't too tender?"
"It's tougher 'n a night in jail."
"There ain't no sausage-mill that'll dent it.
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