Tom Scott and Anson fairly jumped with surprise as they saw her.
“He chased me in here,” she volunteered. “I got in just in time, but I didn’t dare come out again.”
“No, it’s wise you didn’t,” said Tom, smiling at her. “This is a dangerous beast. I thought he was after someone, the way he stood near this shed. Your red sweater must have attracted him. Not hurt, are you?”
“No, only frightened. At least I was. I’m so glad you came.”
“Well, he can’t hurt you now,” chuckled Tom, looking at the bound ram. Anson said nothing. “He’s a tricky beast. Worked his way out of the pen we shut him up in temporarily until his owner can dispose of him. I believe the dean has threatened to make a complaint unless the ram is removed from around here.”
“I hope he goes,” said Arden. “The orchard will be safer without him and less—less mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” questioned Tom, somewhat wonderingly.
“Yes. But I must be going. I’ll be late for my class. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“It was a pleasure,” Tom said, bowing and smiling. “Also a pleasure to choke the beast that gave me such a whack.”
Still Anson Yaeger did not speak. He seemed to be glaring at Arden with his little beady eyes almost hidden under shaggy brows. But Arden was looking only at Tom Scott. She could not seem to help it. And he was looking at her. Arden began to feel embarrassed. It was as if, she said later, she had met the good-looking gardener at some previous time but could not remember where. She was puzzled and annoyed.