"There's your prowler, Henry," he said, laughing softly and slapping his friend between the shoulders. "She's got two horns, but I guess she won't hook, unless she sees through that box and gets a sight of that dress."
A look of relief overspread Henry Burns's face, as a Jersey cow stalked slowly through the brush and stood gazing inquiringly at the two boys. But, observing her for a moment, it did not escape Henry Burns that the animal suddenly gave a spring and turned and faced the other way, as though some noise behind had surprised her.
Henry Burns clutched his comrade and pointed back past the cow. Harvey's eyes followed where he pointed.
The figure of a man was plainly to be seen, stealing along in the shadows of the clumps of bushes.
They paused not another instant, but dashed forward, heedless now of the noise they made, thrusting branches aside and leaping from one knoll to another where the soil was boggy. At the same moment Farmer Ellison, brandishing a club, emerged into plain view and darted after them, crying out as he ran.
"Stop there!" he shouted. "I'll shoot yer if yer don't stop. I'll have no nets set in this stream. Just let me lay this club on your backs."
They only fled the faster.
"He won't shoot," gasped Henry Burns. "Make for the foot of the dam. We'll cross the brook."
As for Harvey, threats of a fire of infantry wouldn't have stopped him. He followed his slighter companion, who led the way, despite the incumbrance of the box he carried.
Through pasture and swamp the chase continued. The boys were fleeter of foot, but Farmer Ellison knew the ground. And once he skirted a boggy piece of land and nearly headed them off. They turned toward the brook, gained its shore and sped along to the foot of the dam. There the water, diminished by the obstruction, flowed from a little basin out on to shallower bottom, from which here and there a rock protruded.