“It does, eh? Where is he?”
“At the farm. The bull got out of the lot.”
“I guess you mean that you let it out! That’s the way with careless boys. I want to tell you that the beast frightened my horse, and it nearly ran away. Part of the harness was broken, and I expect Mr. Savage to pay for it. You can tell him that I say so. My name’s Sam Battle, and I’m always ready for a fight, too. You can tell him that.”
“Was the bull going fast?” asked Dan, more anxious to catch up to the animal, than to hear about the man’s characteristics.
“Fast? Well, you’d ought to have seen him. He’ll do a lot of damage, before he gets off the rampage, and Mr. Savage will have a heavy bill to settle. You’d better hurry up, if you want to catch him, and don’t forget I’ve got to have pay for the broken harness.”
“I suppose Mr. Savage will threaten to get that out of me in some way,” thought Dan, as he hurried on, almost out of breath.
As he went around a turn in the road he saw an elderly woman stooping over a basket that had contained eggs. It was easy to see what had been in the basket, for, all about her, was a pool of whites and yellows from the broken shells. She was trying to pick out a few whole ones, and, in the process her hands had become all daubed up with the sticky substance.
“Hi, boy!” she called to Dan. “Come and help me gather up these eggs.”
“I can’t,” said Dan, respectfully. “I’ve got to catch the bull.”
“Was that your bull?”