CHAPTER IV.

THE FINISH OF TY'S FAMOUS SWEATER.

EVERY one of the three scouts, waiting at the fence to a.s.sist Ty over, should he be fortunate enough to arrive ahead of the enraged bull, held his breath with suspense.

They could easily see that at the rate of progress made by their unfortunate chum, he must certainly be overtaken before he could arrive and have a chance to clamber over that high and stout rail fence, supposed to be bull proof.

But they failed to take into consideration the fact that Ty had profited more than a little from his connection with the scouts. And, besides, all through his exciting race with that owner of the wicked little black horns, he had kept in mind the last instructions shouted across the field by Elmer, the boy who had spent a part of his life on a cattle ranch and farm, and was supposed to know all about the habits of the animals.

"Oh, he's sure a goner!" gasped Landy, as they saw the rapidly advancing bull draw nearer and nearer the frantic runner. "Poor old Ty; I wonder will we be able to catch him on the fly!"

Landy was evidently thinking of baseball, though his excitement was so great that he hardly knew just what was pa.s.sing through his mind.

"Look at that, will you?" burst from Ted.

Ty had waited until all hope of gaining the fence seemed to have fled.

Over his shoulder he could see his terrible enemy closing in and apparently putting on greater speed. If anything was to be done it must be accomplished without the loss of another second.

It was then that he suddenly drew something from the bosom of his outing shirt. This "something" proved to be that old red sweater which he had refused to leave in the crotch of the friendly tree, into the branches of which he had hurriedly climbed at the time he was first beset.

He waved the flaming garment wildly about his head in order to make sure that it caught the eye of the bull; and once that was done it might be put down as certain that the animal would see nothing else than that hated color.

"Wow! He's done it!" cried Landy, as his fat face was pressed tight against the rails of the fence, between which he had an uninterrupted view of the proceedings.

Ty had thrown the red sweater aside.

It floated to the ground as the slight breeze caught its extended folds, and must have presented quite an inviting picture to the inflamed orbs of the bull.

Would he stop short to pay attention to the object of his wrath, forgetting all about the boy who was fleeing toward safety? Elmer did not once doubt it. He knew that this was a familiar trick among the picadors in the arena during a Spanish bullfight; and one that seldom fails, if properly carried out.

Still, he held his breath with anxiety during that brief s.p.a.ce of time; for if the trick did not succeed, Ty would very likely be in for an experience that must prove exceedingly painful, if not positively dangerous.

But the red sweater did not fail its owner. Long had Ty worn that same garment proudly, in spite of jeers and caustic comments on the part of his comrades. And if it were fated to meet destruction at this time, at least it would serve a very useful purpose.

The animal saw the descending flag that incited his anger. Immediately he pulled up short, and began to gore the inoffensive article, thrusting his horns through it, while holding it down with his forefeet at the same time. In this way it was quickly rent into fragments, which the triumphant bull seemed to take great delight in tossing up into the air, as he bellowed with satisfaction.

And so the puffing Ty was enabled to reach the fence. Willing hands were extended to him, and with a rush he found himself drawn to safety.

"Hurrah!" cheered Landy. "You beat him to a frazzle, Ty! That was as clever a little trick as I ever heard tell of."

"All right," grunted the saved one, as he glared venomously between the rails of the fence; "but would you see what he's doing to my fine old sweater? That makes me feel sick. Two years now I've worn that, and she was sure good for another."

"But, man alive, think of what he would have done to you only for that sweater!" exclaimed the fat boy.

"Vat's de madder mit you, Ty?" demanded Adam, who looked at things without the least bit of sentiment; "you pet my life I vould pe gladder as anydings if I pe in your blace. Let der pull alone; he's enchoying himself. Shake vonce on dot narrow escape. Py chimineddy! Mine heart it vas yump in my throat yust as you throw dot sweater avay!"

But Ty refused to be consoled. The sight of the animal running around as if looking for him, with a sad portion of the beloved sweater fastened to one of his ugly little horns, made him grit his teeth.

"Huh!" he said, disdainfully. "You fellers just think it's fine because you never did appreciate that beautiful old sweater; but if you think you're going to get free from seeing me look like myself, you've got another guess coming, that's what. Say, d'ye think I'm going to let an old one-eyed bull knock me out of wearing what I fancy? If I feel like it I'll put on six red coats."

"Hath he got only one eye, Ty?" asked Ted, eagerly.

"That's a fact, boys; didn't I see it glaring up at me time and again, when the sly old critter'd pretend to be eating gra.s.s, and hoping I'd come down," Ty answered, promptly enough.

"Then jutht think what might have happened to you, my thon, if the old bull had happened to potheth _two_ eyeth," remarked Ted, soberly.

Ty would not even smile, he was so angry at the sacrifice of his garment. Climbing up on the topmost rail of the fence, he shook his fist at the prancing bull, and even shouted all sorts of things at him.

"That don't wind it up, not by a long sight!" he declared. "I know where I can get a better sweater than that old one, and for three dollars, too. I've got that and more in my bank at home; and the very first thing I do when I get back will be to bust that same bank open and go down to Selfridge's department store. Oh, have all the fun you want with it, you one-eyed beast; but some day perhaps I'll get even with you!"

"Better forget all that, Ty," remarked Elmer, coming up at this moment.

"You had ought to be so tickled over making such a narrow escape that you'd never bother your head over the loss of that worn-out old thing."

"Worn-out nothing," declared the aroused Ty. "I could have had good use out of that sweater this fall, in football. But never mind; I know just what I'm going to do about it."

"Nothing foolish, I hope," observed the patrol leader, as he cast an apprehensive glance toward the bull.

"Buy that other red sweater that's hung in the window of our big store this month and more. Perhaps, after all, I may not be so sorry, because it's much brighter than that old one; and some of the boys will let out a howl when they first see me in it."

Ty actually allowed a grin to appear on his face at the thought of this; which would apparently indicate that his anger was not so very deep after all.

"Anyhow," continued Elmer, "I want to tell you, Ty, old fellow, that you did that little trick as fine as silk!"

"D'ye think so, Elmer?" remarked the other, looking pleased; for what boy does not like the appreciation of his fellows?

"You certainly did. I've seen cowboys go through with that act many a time, but never any better than you did it," Elmer went on to say. "The only thing I was afraid of was, you might throw it in such a doubled-up way that it would not catch the eye of the bull. But you shook it out all right; and once he saw it he could look at nothing else after that."

"Say, I did that on purpose, sure I did, Elmer," declared Ty, eagerly.

"Seemed to me that it was the proper caper to try. And she worked all right, too. But look here, fellows, he put his horns through that blessed old tin milk pail the farmer's women folks loaned us. She's a wreck; and anyhow we couldn't get in there by the tree to pick it up.

What's to be done about it, tell me that?"

"Oh, there's only one thing to be done," laughed Elmer, taking out half a dollar and thrusting it into the hand of Ty. "We've just got to pay for the lost pail and borrow another one. That's part of the funds we raised before starting out. Are you still going to get that milk, Ty?"

"Am I? Say, twenty bulls couldn't stop me, once I start on a thing. Milk we want for our breakfast, and milk we're going to have, you mark me,"

said Ty, stubbornly.

"Shake on that!" laughed Landy.

"Oxcuse me, off you blease," spoke up Adam with a sly grin; "put is dot vat you galls a milk-shake?"

Elmer laughed, and at the same time looked suspiciously at the German; for somehow he was fast coming to the conclusion that Adam might be smarter than his stolid appearance indicated. In fact, he believed that the German often put on an air of extreme innocence when in fact he was enjoying a sly little joke.

"He'll bear watching," was what Elmer said to himself, as he heard the other laughing uproariously at his own humor, while squeezing the hands of his new chums.

"But, Ty," the patrol leader remarked, with a twinkle in his own eye, "you've learned one thing, I think."