saw you trying to git behint a corn stalk, to consort mit 'im alretty yet!"
"Certainly, I did not wish to be trampled on," replied Mr. Bunn, with dignity—that is, with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. "Oh, to what low estate have I fallen! A mere country bumpkin—I, who once played Hamlet!"
The others were recovering their spirits, now that the danger was over. Sandy and Russ followed the trail of the bull through the corn, and soon they had him before the gate of his own enclosure.
"That gate is open!" exclaimed the young farmer. "I don't see how it happened. There is something wrong here."
The bull was driven in, and then an examination disclosed the fact that the lock of the gate had been broken; by a stone, evidently, for a shattered rock lay on the ground nearby.
"This is strange," murmured Sandy. "Someone has done this on purpose. I don't like it—after what happened the other night."
"What was that?" asked Russ.
"Why, Mr. Pertell and I saw a suspicious-looking man out in the road, and we chased him," and he told of the circumstance.
"And you think he broke this lock to let the
