“I don’t care whose fault it was, I’m going to sue. You did this on purpose, and I’ll fix you for it too, Dan Hardy.”
“But, Mr. Lee—”
“Don’t you talk back to me. I said I’m going to fix you for this and I will.”
Dan saw it would be of little use to further argue with the man, so he turned away and gave his whole attention to managing the bull, which was bellowing hoarsely and pawing the earth.
Mr. Lee kept on down the road, muttering to himself, almost as angry, Dan thought, as was the bull.
“It wasn’t my fault,” remarked the boy to himself, “still I suppose I will be blamed for it.”
Nor was his anticipation disappointed. When he had put the bull back in the south pasture where the animal had first been kept, he returned to the farm. Some news of what had happened had already preceded him.
“Wa’ll, this is a pretty how-d’-do!” exclaimed Mr. Savage, as Dan went to the barn, where his master was feeding the horses for the night. “What ails ye, anyhow? Can’t ye do anything right?”
“What do you mean, Mr. Savage?”
“Jest what I say. What made you let that bull out an’ cause a lot of damage? Oh, I know all about it. Mrs. Dowden sent her boy over to see me, and she says I’ve got to pay for th’ eggs th’ bull smashed. It’s all your fault.”