The bull suddenly put down its head, pawed the earth, and bellowed.
"I think we would better hurry," she remarked, quickening her step.
"It's only a protest!" he laughed. "He is like the average man—he makes plenty of fuss and racket but doesn't do anything that will really correct the trouble. And the trouble continues—just as we are doing."
Another bellow, and fiercer, came from the bull—and he began to trot slowly toward them.
"He's coming!" exclaimed Stephanie, beginning to run.
"Make for the nearest fence!" counselled Porshinger, and stopped.
The bull kept straight on until he was within a few feet of Porshinger—then he paused, pawed the earth again, and let out another bellow.
Stephanie, glancing over her shoulder, saw the situation and halted.
"Come on, Mr. Porshinger!" she called.