Well, how about Farmer Dobson and his hired man? Suppose they had managed to get away from the sentinel bull, would they, too, go back home, or continue to haunt the vicinity, spurred on by the hope of capturing the bound boy?
Frank was inclined to believe that such might be the case. He knew that Dobson seemed worried because of those welts on Jed's back, and which, if seen just now by Bluff's lawyer father, might get him into trouble. Hence, he would be apt to try still further in order to kidnap the boy, who could then be kept secluded until all signs of his cruel treatment had passed away.
Frank had also made up his mind how he would act in case the vindictive tiller of the soil appeared in view, crawling into the camp. He even smiled a little at the prospect of holding him up a second time, and calling the others out to witness his humiliation.
Perhaps an hour had gone thus when he heard a slight sound.
"Something is moving over yonder, sure enough," he said in an undertone.
He sat perfectly still, his eyes fastened on the point where the rustling in the bushes had caught his attention.
Presently he could see the dim outline of a huge bulk.
"It's no animal, but a man or boy creeping up," he concluded, after watching this for another minute.
Then a head was cautiously raised. Frank felt glad that he had taken the pains to sit in the shadows, where he could not be easily seen. Higher arose the head.
"H'm! So it's the farmer, all right, bent on taking poor Jed home. He seems to be a very persistent old codger. Just wait, and I'll give him the scare of his life. Bulls won't be in it," muttered the watcher.