The bull was pawing the ground angrily and bellowing at the foot of the tree, now and then casting a look upward. Evidently he could not understand why the ripe plum did not fall down again so that he could practice some more.
The farmer by this time had recovered his wind to some extent. His heavy voice could be heard shouting at the animal, as though in that way he could send him about his business.
"The bull doesn't seem to care whether school keeps or not. He's got his man up a tree, and I expect he means to keep him there. What's that Dobson is saying? Can he have seen me?"
"Hey, you fellers! Come here and chase this beast away! A dollar apiece if ye coax him off, d'ye hear?"
Jerry realized that from his elevated perch Dobson must have sighted some others near by. Possibly they were lumbermen, looking over this section for some purpose.
"Cracky! I'd like to see 'em coax! Perhaps the circus ain't over yet," chuckled Jerry, with all a boy's love for fun.
Shouts were heard in the near distance. Jerry pricked up his ears at catching the boyish inflection of these outcries.
"Those fellows are Pet Peters and his crowd. Gee-whittaker! What luck for me, with this reserved seat at the show!" he laughed.
He heard the crash of the undergrowth as the newcomers advanced on the run. The promise of a big dollar apiece was an attractive lure to the Peters lot, and there was little they would not have attempted to earn so easily.
Each of them had armed himself with a stout stick of some sort. Some were long, and others short, but all promised to be serviceable in chasing away the domestic animal that had treed the farmer.