"Drop your parasol!" cried Greg. "Throw it away."
"Then turn and run in another direction!" shouted Darrin.
Neither Dr. Bentley nor Dick Prescott uttered a word. They had no advice ready at the instant, but turned and ran toward the imperiled girl as fast as they could go.
Unused to such exercise, Dr. Bentley, who got the first start, was quickly panting and red of face.
By him like a streak shot Dick Prescott, running with the speed of the sprinter.
To face the bull empty handed was worse than useless. Dick had to form his plans as he ran.
CHAPTER XXII
PLAYING RAGTIME ON MR. BULL
"Drop your parasol! Throw it away!" screamed her friends in unison.
But Clara, emitting another shriek, seemed too frightened to comprehend. She tried to redouble her speed, but the bull was rapidly gaining on her in the pursuit.