The animal heard the voice and turned. Seeing that the newcomer was only a woman, she lowered her head and pawed the ground.
“Run for the gate, little girl,” commanded the rescuer. “Run quick!” Bos'n obeyed. She made a desperate dash from her pine across the open space, and in another moment was safe inside the cemetery fence.
“Scat! Go home!” ordered the lady, advancing toward the cow and shaking the book at her, as if the volume was some sort of deadly weapon. “Aren't you ashamed of yourself! Go away! You needn't growl at me! I'm not a bit afraid of you.”
The “growling” was the muttered bellow with which the cow was wont to terrorize her feminine victims. But this victim refused to be terrorized. Instead of screaming and running she continued to advance, brandishing the book and repeating her orders that the creature “go home” at once. The cow did not know what to make of it. Before she could decide whether to charge or retreat, a good-sized stick descended upon her back with a “whack” that settled the question. Captain Cy had reached the scene of battle.
Then the rescuer's courage seemed to desert her, for she ran back to the cemetery even faster than she had run from it. When the indignant captain, having pursued and chastised the cow until the stick was but a splintered remnant, reached the haven behind the iron fence, he found her soothing the frightened Bos'n who was sobbing and hysterical.
Emily saw her “Uncle Cyrus” coming and rushed into his arms. He picked her up and, holding her with a grip which testified to the nerve strain he had been under, stepped forward to meet the stranger, whose coming had been so opportune.
And she WAS a stranger. The captain knew most of Bayport's inhabitants by this time, or thought he did, but he did not know her. She was a small woman, quietly dressed, and her hair, under a neat black and white hat, was brown. The hat was now a trifle to one side and the hair was the least bit disarranged, an effect not at all unbecoming. She was tucking in the stray wisps as the captain, with Bos'n in his arms, came up.
“Well, ma'am!” puffed Captain Cy. “WELL, ma'am! I must say that was the slickest, pluckiest thing ever I saw anywheres. I don't know what would—I—I declare I don't know how to thank you.”
The lady looked at him a moment before replying. Then she began to laugh, a jolly laugh that was pleasant to hear.
“Don't try, please,” she said chokingly. “It wasn't anything. Oh, mercy me! I'm all out of breath. You see, I had been warned about that cow when I started to walk this afternoon. So when I saw her chasing your poor little girl here I knew right away what was the matter. It must have been foolish enough to look at. I'm used to dogs and cats, but I haven't had many pet cows. I told her to 'go home' and to 'scat' and all sorts of things. Wonder I didn't tell her to lie down! And the way I shook that ridiculous book at her was—”