"Don't you intend to do what I tell you?"
The animal perked up his head and kept his eye upon the revolver.
"Well," exclaimed Billie as he drew a long breath, "this is the limit. I can't make you mind and I won't hurt you. I guess the only thing I can do is to go and leave you."
Suiting the action to the word, Billie turned and started down the track, his revolver still in his hand.
He had not gone more than a dozen steps, before he heard the soft pat-pat behind him, and on looking back could see nothing but the waving grass to indicate the whereabouts of his erstwhile assailant.
"So I am to be followed, am I? Well, all right." Then, as an afterthought: "I wonder how I can catch him when I want him. I wonder if this will do," and he raised his weapon and pointed it toward the moving grass.
With the same plaintive cry which Billie had come to recognize as one of fear, the animal ran toward him and sank to his knees.
Billie smiled.
"It's all right, old chap. As long as I know how to handle you, why you can follow me right back to the train."
Again he started down the track at a brisk walk, it having just occurred to him that there might be something doing at the other end of his journey.