"Now then," whispered the sheep driver as they drew near. Jimsy's rope swirled and settled about the ram's horns. But the startled beast was due to give them another surprise. Hardly had Jimsy's rope fallen about it when with a snort it leaped clean in the air and out of the aëroplane. It tore like an express train straight at Jimsy.
Before the boy could get out of its path "Biff!" the impact had come. Jimsy arose into the atmosphere and described a distinct parabola. He landed with a bump in a clump of bushes, while Mr. Ram rushed off down the road to join his flock.
"Haw! haw! haw!" roared the sheep man; "ain't hurt, be you?"
"No; but I've a good mind to sue you for damages," rejoined Jimsy, picking himself out of the clump of brush; "you've no right to drive an animal like that around the country without labeling him 'Dynamite. Dangerous'."
"Guess I will, too," said the man, who appeared to think well of the suggestion; "he sure will get me in a pile of trouble one of these days."
He raised his hat and strode off, followed by the boy. In the distance the ram was capering about among the other sheep. Jimsy brushed the dust off himself and then looked about him.
"Anybody laughing?" he demanded suspiciously.
They all shook their heads, the girls biting their lips to avoid smiling.
"All right then, I suggest that we get out of here right away; a tiger's liable to come striding out of those woods next."
"Yes; we'd better be getting along; Millbrook, our next stop, is several miles off," said Peggy, consulting the map.