Part 25 (2/2)

Whether he had or not was not now the question, at least so far as the Merino was concerned.

The ram was angry. He resented being bunted over in any such manner.

The animal, scrambling to his feet, uttered a bleat, at the same time viciously throwing up his head, landing lightly, for him, on Chunky's leg.

”Stop kicking me! I say you stop that you----”

He did not finish what he had started to say. The Merino, finding the mark a satisfactory one, had backed quickly off. With head well down, eyes on the boy who had been the cause of his downfall, he charged with a rush.

Just at the instant when he delivered the blow, the tough, horned head was raised ever so little.

”Ye-o-ow!” shrieked the boy as he felt himself suddenly lifted from his feet and once more propelled through the air head first. It seemed in that brief interval of sailing through s.p.a.ce as if every particular bone in his body had been jarred loose from its fastenings. Chunky felt as if he were all falling apart while making his brief second flight.

He was headed straight for the muddy water hole, and the ram was charging him a second time. The lad did not know this, however.

Just at the edge of the water hole the Merino caught him again, neatly flipping him in the air and landing the boy on his back, with a mighty splash, right in the middle of the pool.

Yet the force of the ram's charge had been so great that he was unable to stop when he discovered the water at his feet. In endeavoring to do so, his strong little feet ploughed into the soft turf. The Merino did a pretty half somersault and he too landed in the mud pool on his back.

Unfortunately, he struck in the identical spot that Chunky had, and for a moment there was such a thres.h.i.+ng about, such a commotion there as two monsters of the deep might have made in a battle to the death.

Old Hicks was hammering a dishpan on a wheel of the chuck wagon, regardless of the damage he was inflicting on the pan, and screaming with delight.

Professor Zepplin as soon as he could recover his wits, rushed to the rescue and from the flying legs and horns managed to extract Stacy Brown and drag him up to the dry ground.

The lad was a spectacle. Mud was plastered over him from head to foot, while the muddy water was dripping from hair, mouth, ears, eyes and nose.

”I--I fell in, didn't I?” he gasped. ”Wh--who kicked me?”

”Who kicked him?” jeered Old Hicks. ”Oh, help, help!” he cried, rolling with laughter.

Stacy began to sputter in an uncertain voice.

Professor Zepplin shook him roundly.

”Why didn't you get out of it? The water wasn't over my head, you Chunk,” roared Old Hicks.

Chunky eyed him sadly.

”It was the way I went in,” he said, breathing hard as he wrung the water from his trousers by twisting them in his hand.

At that the irrepressible Hicks went off into another paroxysm of mirth.

CHAPTER XV

ROPED BY A COWBOY

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