“Excuse me, strangers,” broke in a farmer who was seated near a table reading, “but was this calf you speak of a brown and white spotted one?”
“It was,” answered Jerry.
“With a very long tail?” the man wanted to know.
“Very long,” spoke Ned, who had particularly noted the appendage as he dragged the creature out of the way.
“And was it a thin, poor-looking sort of a calf?” went on the man.
“It was,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “You seem to know this calf in question.”
“Know it? I guess I do!” was the answer. “And I know Eb Sackett, too. Why that calf had been condemned by the county inspector of cattle, an’ Eb had been ordered to kill it. Th’ calf had some catchin’ disease, an’ Eb was under orders t’ git rid of it inside of twenty-four hours, or pay a fine of fifty dollars. He was takin’ it off to shoot it, when you must have bunked into it.”
“Are you sure of this?” asked Ned.
“Course I am, strangers. Why, I’m a deputy cattle inspector, an’ I’m on my way now to see if Eb carried out the orders he got. But if you say the calf is dead there ain’t no use in me goin’ on.”
“Oh, it’s dead all right,” replied Jerry with a queer look at his chums.