“It would be a risky undertaking miss,” the herder answered respectfully enough. “Sheep is queer critters. You think you’ve got ’em just where you want ’em, when, all to once they break out, and if one goes the others follow.”
“Yes, I know!” Cora was genuinely distressed. “But we simply must get past!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you think of a way?” She looked ahead at the sheep. There were a hundred or more–quite a flock. The herder took off his cap and scratched his head reflectively–looking the while meditatively at his pipe.
“It might be done–it might,” he murmured.
Cora brought her car to a stop.
“Oh!” cried Bess and Belle together, and Bess, who was driving, jammed on the foot and emergency brake quicker than she ever had in her life before. As it was her fender struck the rear tires of Cora’s car.
“Oh dear!” wailed Eline, clutching at Cora, while Belle, recovering from her momentary fright, had the presence of mind to raise her arm in the air as a signal for the boys to come to a halt.
“Cora Kimball!” cried Bess. “What did you stop so suddenly for, and not signal us? We might have broken your car!”
“I’m sorry. But I just thought of something, so didn’t think of signalling. Any damage done?”
“No, but there might have been.”
“All right then. Will you please come here?” she called to the man. “I want to speak to you–that is, if the sheep will be all right.”