He was near the fence when the cow must have discovered him again, for the first thing Bumpus knew he heard Davy shrieking madly.
“Run like everything, Bumpus! Whoop! here she comes, licketty-split after you! To the fence, and we’ll help you over, Bumpus! Come on! Come on!”
Which Bumpus was of course doing the best he knew how, not even daring to look over his shoulder for fear of being petrified by the awful sight of that “monster” charging after him, and appearing ten times as big as she really was.
Arriving at the fence he found Davy and Giraffe awaiting him, for the latter, possibly arriving at the repentant stage, had begun to realize that a joke may often be very one-sided, and that “what is fun for the boys is death to the frogs.”
Assisted by their willing arms the almost breathless fat scout was hustled over the fence. There was indeed little time to spare. Hardly had Davy and Giraffe managed to follow after him, so that all three landed beyond the barrier, when the baffled bovine arrived on the spot, to bellow with rage as she realized that her intended prey had escaped for good.
Bumpus was hardly able to breathe. He was fiery red in the face, and quite wet with perspiration; but nevertheless he looked suspiciously at Giraffe, as though a dim idea might be taking shape in that slow-moving mind of his.
“Oh, no, Bumpus! You don’t get that compass this time,” asserted the tall scout, shaking his head in the negative, while he grinned at Bumpus. “You never climbed the tree at all, you know. Our little wager is off!”
“If I thought you knew—about that pesky cow, Giraffe—I’d consider that you played me a low-down trick!” said Bumpus, between gasps.
Giraffe made no reply. Perhaps the enormity of his offense had begun to trouble him, because Bumpus was such a good-natured fellow, with his sunny blue eyes, and his willing disposition, that it really seemed a shame to take advantage of his confiding nature. So Giraffe turned aside, and amused himself by thrusting his hand, containing his own red bandanna, through the openings between the rails of the fence, and tempting the cow to butt at him, when, of course, he would adroitly withdraw from reach in good time.
When Bumpus had fully recovered his breath, the march was resumed. Giraffe loitered behind a bit. He knew from the signs that he was in for what he called a “hauling over the coals” by the patrol leader, and fully expected to see Thad drop back to join him. The sooner the unpleasant episode was over with the better—that was Giraffe’s way of looking at it, and he was really inviting Thad to hurry up and get the scolding out of his system.