“Did the horse have anybody on its back?” Janet demanded.
“I don’t believe so. But that doesn’t make any difference. Here he comes now. I’ll see what I can do.”
Hal climbed over the fence, and stood ready to do as he had said he would. The calf, with Ted still clinging to its neck, came nearer and nearer.
“Oh, Hal! Jan! Stop him! Stop him!” cried the small Curlytop boy. “Get grandpa or somebody and stop him. I’m all—all—shaken up—to—to jel-ly!” and the words seemed jarred out of poor Ted as you shake corn out of a popper.
“Hal’s going to stop him! Hal will stop him!” shouted Jan.
The racing calf was now quite close to the lame boy, who did not seem to be at all afraid. He took off his cap and began waving it around—up and down—every way. At the same time he hopped up and down, flapping his arms and shouting as loudly as he could.
“Whoa there! Stop! Whoa!” yelled Hal.
The calf still came on, but not quite so fast. Of course it might have turned to either side and gone past Hal, but maybe the little animal did not think of this. It slowed up, and did not seem to know what to do.
“Jan, you jump down and hold out your arms, too,” called Hal, and Jan did so. She waved her hands and her sunbonnet, but she forgot to jump up and down.
But this did not seem to be needed, for now the calf, seeing the fence on one side of him, and a very much excited boy and girl directly in its path, came to a sudden stop. It was going to turn and run back the other way—any way at all to get rid of that strange two-legged creature on its back. But the sudden stop did just what Jan and Hal and what Ted himself and the calf wanted—it took the Curlytop boy off the little animal’s back.