Ted slid off and fell to the ground. But as the grass was soft and long he was not a bit hurt, seeming to bounce up as though he had ridden on a load of hay or had fallen in the feather bed which Trouble had cut with the scissors.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried Jan, as she ran to her brother. “Are you hurt?”
“I—I guess not. Nope!” he answered, as he felt of his arms and legs. “I’m much obliged to you for stopping him, Hal.”
“Oh, well, it was easy. How’d you come to get on his back?”
“I was playing cowboy.”
“Cowboys don’t ride calves,” declared Hal.
“Well, then I was a calf-boy, I guess,” and Ted laughed.
He was telling Hal how he had lassoed the calf, which, by this time, had managed to get the rope off its neck, when a voice called to the children:
“What have you been doing?”
“Oh!” they exclaimed, like the chorus of a song; and, looking up, they saw Grandpa Martin smiling at them from the other side of the fence.