"Oh! you're not in this, Toby," the other assured the stutterer; "and I'm not much s'prised at me forgetting, but it's queer Max should, because he nearly always remembers."
"Then it must have been something connected with the little excursion the two of us took yesterday?" Max guessed.
"Just what it was," said Bandy-legs. "We didn't think to ask Mrs. Ketcham about whether they kept a bull or not; and you know we said we would, because that might explain the awful growling noise we heard and which sounded like an escaped lion roaring."
Max laughed softly.
"I admit that we didn't bother asking her about it, Bandy-legs," he remarked; "but that was because there was no need."
"But why?" insisted the other, greedily.
"Oh! I happened to see the bull myself," replied Max, quietly.
"Pretty good evidence, that, I'd say," chuckled the amused Steve; "and so far as I c'n tell, your lamps are in good condition, Max. Seeing is believing, they say."
"And you didn't even bother to tell me, either; was that just fair!" the aggrieved Bandy-legs wanted to know.
"Well," Max told him, "it happened when you were helping Mrs. Ketcham do something with the eggs, and I guess I must have forgotten all about it afterwards, because we had a lot of other things to talk about. But happening to look out of the window in the direction of the barn I just glimpsed the heavy-set head of a big Jersey bull sticking out of a hole that must have been made in his stall so as to give him air. He was sniffing, as if he knew there were strangers around; but when I looked again he had drawn his head in, and so I forgot all about him."