"Good afternoon. No one hurt, I hope," he said.
The girls looked greatly relieved. After all, the man was not rude or angry as they had feared.
"Oh, no, thank you," cried Jess, before Roy or Jimsy could open their mouths. "I hope he isn't though."
"Hurt!" exclaimed the ram's owner, "why you couldn't hurt him with a steam hammer. Why, day 'afore yesterday the blame thing went for my wife. Hoofs and horns—yes, sir! Most knocked her down, he did. I'll fix him."
"What's his name?" asked Bess.
"Hannibal," said the man, without the flicker of a facial muscle.
"I should think Cannonball would be a better name for him," struck in Jimsy, with that funny, serious face he always assumed when 'joshing'.
"Yes, sir, I guess it would be more appropriate at that," assented the man.
He looked at the disabled machine.
"Busted?" he asked with apparent concern.