"Send him away, now; or I'll go home," Red threatened.
At that Johnnie Green drove Snowball behind the barn. But he wouldn't stay there. He came trotting back to the farmyard in no time.
"Leave him alone! Don't pay any attention to him and he won't touch you!" Johnnie advised Red.
However, that young man was uneasy. But he said nothing more about the matter. And turning to the swing under the big old apple tree he cried, "Come on, Johnnie! I'll swing you."
Now, Johnnie Green had swung in that swing thousands of times. But it wasn't often anybody was willing to stand and push him until he went up, up, up, high among the leafy branches.
"All right!" he said. "None of your tricks, now!"
Red only grinned. And he began pushing Johnnie. He pushed so hard that for once Johnnie was satisfied. Once he thought the swing seat—with him on it—was going to turn completely over.
The whole thing was most strange. It was most unusual. Red was always ready to be swung. Never had he been willing, before, to swing anybody else. So Johnnie decided to enjoy the fun while he could. Back and forth he rode in long sweeps.
Meanwhile Snowball kept edging nearer. He was behind Red. And all the time Red kept a careful eye on him. But of this Johnnie Green saw nothing. For of course his back was turned to Red and to Snowball, too.
There was no doubt that Snowball wanted to take a hand in the sport—or perhaps it would be better to say take a horn. Anyhow he lowered his head now and then, and shook it. And at last he stamped upon the ground.