“Hi there! Don’t be afraid! I’ll make the sheep go away!”
They looked up, expecting to see Grandpa Martin, or perhaps their father. Instead, they saw lame Hal Chester climbing the fence to get into the field where the ram and others of the flock had penned in the Curlytops.
“Go back! Go back!” yelled Ted. “The sheep are bad!”
“I’m not afraid!” called out Hal. “I’ve got something to make them be good!”
“Oh, he has got something!” exclaimed Jan. “It’s in his cap. I wonder what it is?”
Hal was carrying something in his cap, which he held upside down in one hand. He scrambled over the fence in his funny way, and then came on toward the sheep and the children, swinging his lame foot along after him.
“I’m coming!” he called. “I’ll soon make those sheep go away!”
“Do you—do you s’pose he’s got a gun?” asked Jan. “Will he shoot the sheep?”
“No! Course not!” answered Ted. “He couldn’t carry a gun in his cap that way.”
“Then what is it?”