Dad is for any one."

A sound had for some minutes been disturbing the calm peace of the
morning. It was the bawling of thirsty cattle. The young people turned a
corner into the main street of the town. Down it was moving toward them
a cloud of yellow dust stirred up by a bunch of Texas longhorns. The
call of the cattle for drink was insistent. Above it rose an occasional
sharp "Yip yip!" of a cowboy.

Ramona stopped, aghast. The cattle blocked the road, their moving backs
like the waves of a sea. The dust would irreparably soil the clean
frock fresh from the hands of her black mammy. She made as if to turn,
and knew with a flash of horror that it was too late.

Perhaps it was the gleam of scarlet in her sash that caught the eye of
the bull leading the van. It gave a bellow of rage, lowered its head,
and dashed at her.

Ramona gave a horror-stricken little cry of fear and stood motionless.
She could not run. The fascination of terror held her paralyzed. Her
heart died away in her while the great brute thundered toward her.

Out of the dust-cloud came a horse and rider in the wake of the bull.
Frozen in her tracks, Ramona saw with dilated eyes all that followed.
The galloping horse gained, was at the heels of the maddened animal,
drew up side by side. It seemed to the girl that in another moment she
must be trampled underfoot. Nothing but a miracle from God's blue could
save her.

For what registered as time without end to the girl's fear-numbed brain,
horse and bull raced knee to knee. Then the miracle came. The rider
leaned far out from the saddle, loosened his feet from the stirrups, and
launched himself at the crazed half-ton of charging fury.

His hands gripped the horns of the bull. He was dragged from the saddle
into the dust, but his weight deflected the course of the animal. With
every ounce of strength given by his rough life in the open the cowboy
hung on, dragging the head of the bull down with him toward the ground.
Man and beast came to a slithering halt together in a great cloud of
dust not ten feet from Ramona.

Even now terror held her a prisoner. The brute would free itself and
stamp the man to death. A haze gathered before her eyes. She swayed,
then steadied herself. Man and bull were fighting desperately, one with
sheer strength, the other with strength plus brains and skill. The
object of the animal was to free itself. The bull tossed wildly in
frantic rage to shake off this incubus that ha