mble. "We'll head 'em off while you run."

"No, no!" pleaded Mrs Bosenna; and Cai hung irresolute, for the pressure
on his arm was delicious. It crossed his mind for a moment that a lady
so timid with cattle had no business to be dwelling alone at Rilla Farm.

"It's different--with my own cows," gasped Mrs Bosenna, as if
interpreting and answering this thought in one breath. "I'm used to
them--but Mr Middlecoat will insist on keeping these wild beasts!--
though he knows I'm a lone woman and they're not to be held by any
fences--"

"I'd like to give that Middlecoat a piece of my mind," growled Cai, and
swore. His arm by this time was about Mrs Bosenna's waist, and she was
yielding to it. But he saw 'Bias still steadily confronting the herd--
saw him lift an arm, a hand grasping a hat, and wave it violently--saw
thereupon the steers swing about and head back for the gate, heads down,
sterns heaving and plunging. Cai swore again and reluctantly loosened
his embrace.

"Run, _dear!_" The word drummed in his ears as he pelted to 'Bias's
rescue. 'Bias, as a matter of fact, needed neither rescue nor support.
The steers after spreading and scattering before his first onset, were
converging again in a rush back upon the open gateway. They charged
through it in a panic, jostling, crushing through the narrow way: and
'Bias, still frantically waving his hat, had charged through it after
them before Cai, assured now that his friend had the mastery, halted and
drew breath, holding a hand to his side.

'Bias had disappeared. Cai heard his voice, at some little distance,
still chivvying the steers down the lane beyond the gate. . . .
Then, as it seemed, another voice challenged 'Bias's, and the two were
meeting in angry altercation.

"Mr Middlecoat!" gasped a voice close behind him. Cai swung about, and
to his amazement confronted Mrs Bosenna. Instead of retreating she had
followed up the pursuit.

"But I told you--" he began, in a tone of indignant command.

"You don't know Mr Middlecoat's temper. I'm afraid--if they meet--"
She hurried by him, towards the gate.

Cai took fresh breath and dashed after her. They passed the gateway
neck and neck. At a turning some fifty yards down the lane--Cai leading
now by a stride or two--they pulled up, panting.

'Bias, his back blocking the way, stood there confronting a young
farmer: and the young farmer's face was red with a bull-fury.

"You damned trespasser!"

"Tres