"Oh! no, of course not, Toby," Max hastened to assure him; "but it seems as though there isn't going to be any encore to that other noise."
"Then h-h-how are we agoin' to decide w-w-what it was?"
"We might take a vote, and see how we stand on it," laughed Max.
"Bull or lion, eh?" suggested Steve.
"There's a few clouds floating around loose," remarked Bandy-legs, as though in an uncertain state himself; "and p'raps after all that was a grumble of faraway thunder."
"S-s-s'pose somebody could be doin' blastin' up around here?"
This was a new idea that appealed to Toby. He sometimes startled his comrades by having an original thought.
"That isn't such an impossible thing after all, Toby," admitted Max, after considering it for a brief time; "although so far as I'm concerned I don't think it was either thunder, or a blast."
"That brings us back to the original question—bull or lion?" Steve pursued.
"We may never know which, if it isn't repeated," Bandy-legs observed, sagely; for not wanting to be outdone by Toby he had racked his brain in vain to find another possible explanation, and had to give it up.