Chapter Thirteen.
Rampant Beef.
“Here’s something the matter!” cried Dexter; and, forgetting everything in the excitement of the moment, he ran back as hard as he could tear to the footpath leading to the stile they had crossed, the high untrimmed hedge between the fields concealing what was taking place.
Helen followed quickly, feeling certain the while that the drove of bullocks in the next meadow were the cause of the trouble and alarm.
Dexter reached the stile far in advance; and when at last Helen attained to the same post of observation, it was to see Sir James Danby at the far side standing upon the next stile toward the town, shouting, and frantically waving his hat and stick, while between her and the stout baronet there was the drove of bullocks, and Dexter approaching them fast.
For a few moments Helen could not understand what was the matter, but directly after, to her horror, she saw that young Edgar Danby was on the ground, with one of the bullocks standing over him, smelling at the prostrate boy, and apparently trying to turn him over with one of its horns.
“Here! Hi!” shouted Dexter; “bring me your stick.”
But Sir James, who had been chased by the leading bullock, was breathless, exhausted, and too nervous to attempt his son’s rescue. All he seemed capable of doing was to shout hoarsely, and this he did more feebly every moment.