CHAPTER III
THE GYPSY CARAVAN
“It’s a screamer!” exclaimed Lanky, immediately.
“What I call a peach!” ejaculated Bones Shadduck. “Say, what was I tellin’ you, Lanky; didn’t I say our Frank would get up a plan that was goin’ to beat anything you ever heard tell of? Oh! hurry up, and let’s get things started.”
“Well, suppose then you take this doubled rope, which I’ve coiled up, and see if you can land the end in the branches of Lanky’s tree.”
“And as near me as you can, Bones, remember,” advised the one most interested; “because he’s just a-listenin’ as if he knew what we were talkin’ about; and, if he gets half a chance, I reckon he’ll take that same rope and wrap it all around those gold-tipped horns of his.”
So Bones, after finding how he could stand on the top of the rail fence in a fairly steady fashion, took a survey of the situation, and decided just what amount of effort it would require to send the end of the doubled rope into the tree.
He started to wind up by whirling the coils around his head, after the fashion of a cowboy about to make a cast. Then, as Lanky, becoming impatient, begged him to make haste, Bones let fly.
His first attempt proved a failure, for the rope fell short. The bull seemed so curious about all these actions that he came over to look at the rope, which Bones was now dragging back in haste.
“Keep off there, you!” he called to the animal; “just go back and mind your own business, which I take it right now is to watch Lanky yonder,” and, as though understanding what was said, sure enough, the heavy-set animal turned immediately, trotting back under the tree, and looking up longingly at the imprisoned boy, while emitting a low bellow.
“Is that the best you can do, Bones?” demanded Lanky, wishing to spur the other on; “if it is, better let Frank take a turn, because I know he can make a longer throw than that was.”