The bull paid no attention to the new arrivals until they were closing in on him from all sides.
"Say! I believe that old critter is playing 'possum. He doesn't want to scare the Peters crowd till he gets 'em in close. Now look what's going to happen! Whoop!"
The bull had suddenly whirled around, and made a bee-line for the nearest of the circle. That worthy happened to be Pet himself. His courage oozed out at sight of that terrible beast bearing swiftly down upon him.
Throwing away his stick he started to run, but the bull was too close upon him.
"Up he goes!" shouted Jerry in admiration, as he saw the figure of Pet whirling into the branches of another tree, where he clung desperately, half frightened to death.
This time the bull did not wait to strike the ground with his hoofs, and bellow. He seemed to know that there was plenty more excitement close by, if only he looked for it.
"Run!" shrieked Jerry, as the animal caught sight of a second chap trying to scuttle off.
Every boy was by this time rattled. They no longer had any thought of hostile action toward the old hero of many a battle. Those little black horns, each surmounted with a shining brass ball, sent a spasm of terror to their hearts, and not the promise of five dollars apiece would tempt them to linger.
But the bull was not satisfied with the scattering of his enemies. He yearned for more exercise, apparently, for he started to chase, first this fleeing boy, and then, turning aside, galloped after another, until he had the entire bunch panic-stricken, most of them howling in an excess of fear.
Jerry just lay down on the ground and shook with laughter. He could not remember when such a feast had come his way.