A low sound met her ear; a long, growling bellow, which had come at intervals during the morning. The Jersey bull was resenting his imprisonment in the stock-yard, and venting his ill-temper by making unpleasant remarks and pawing up the ground in one corner. Jo stopped to glance in the direction of the yard.
As she did so, the bull found a weak spot in the fence. He put his great head under, and lifted; and the top rail shot into the air. It left a gap that was far too much temptation for a wrathful Jersey. Jo uttered a startled exclamation as the big brown beast suddenly rose in the air, jumping lazily over the broken fence. He stood irresolutely for a moment, and then trotted up the road, keeping close beside the fence, and bellowing morosely as he went.
Jo’s voice brought her twin hurriedly out to her side.
“Good gracious!” Jean exclaimed. “The wicked old horror! Whatever can we do?”
“We can’t let him go,” Jo said. “Mr. Harrison’s man must have him, or Father wouldn’t get the money for him. And anyhow, he isn’t safe, Jean; he simply mustn’t be left on the road. Why, he might meet some children. You never know who may be on that track.”
“I don’t believe we could yard him again,” Jean said doubtfully. “Father said yesterday that it took him all his time to handle him: his temper’s abominable. Mother has wanted Father to sell him for ever so long, ’cause he isn’t to be trusted.”
“If only a man would come along!” Jo uttered.
They ran to the fence and looked up and down the road. No one was in sight: the lane the bull had taken was a quiet one, and it was empty save for his fast-retreating form. He trotted briskly, hugging the fence and uttering his long, growling bellow. The twins looked at each other blankly.
“He’s worth such a lot of money, too!” Jean said. “Father’s going to get ever so much for him. It’s perfectly awful, Jo!”
Jo was thinking.