once alert.

"It's Dad's Jersey bull," she said. "He's got loose somehow."

Just then the rumble rose into an unmistakable bellow, and a yellowish,
bovine form hove into sight from the timber, halted and stared wildly
about. First he saw the boys and the barefooted girl. Then, lashing his
tail, he came on at a galloping run, uttering angry snorts at every
step.

Realizing before the others that here might be actual danger, Phil again
rose to the emergency. He pulled out a flaming scarlet bandana
handkerchief, which Paul had more than once made fun of, and which Phil
seldom was caught using. Happening to have it with him now, Phil pointed
at the Big Six standing near, bright colored and easily attractive to a
mad bull.

He darted toward the oncoming Jersey, crying:

"All of you get in the car--quick! I'll draw the bull! When he takes
after me start her up! Then I'll take a chance and jump in, if you'll
swing round near me. Hump yourselves!"

Dave at once saw what Phil was up to. He wanted to save the car from the
bull's attack, for the animal was in a mood to attack anything bright
enough, gay enough. Before Phil had finished, Dave sprang into the
driver's seat, while Paul and Billy, both assisting the girl, jumped
into the tonneau. Dave released the clutch and off they went, the bull
missing the rear end by hardly a yard.

Daunted by the fierce snorts emitted by the car the bull halted,
roaring. Then his eye caught the flare of a brilliant red something that
Phil was waving to and fro under his inflamed nostrils. The sight of
scarlet always went to his bullish head, and now made him more mad. With
another louder roar his bullship turned furiously on this new tormentor.

For several moments it was nip and tuck between the Jersey and his foe,
who always was just behind that flaring expanse of scarlet. Only a brief
spell of such hairbreadth maneuvering was sufficient to produce
shortness of breath on Phil's part, at least.

Would that car never wheel in his direction? Fearing exhaustion, but
flirting the bandana behind him, Phil made straight for the shady copse
under which they had dined. Then he vanished so quickly that Mr. Bull,
scenting mystery, halted and lashed his flanks with his tail. Dave saw
the trick Phil was playing. His car veered round the other side of the
copse, whirling up to within ten feet of where Phil stood panting, while
the Jersey plunged round the far side. Paul flung open the door of the