THE DANGEROUS BULL
“Why, of course,” began Mr. Savage, while he scraped some mud off his
boots with a stick, “ye know this corn has all got t’ be shelled t’
day, an’ when Dan stops, th’ work ain’t goin’ on. Work is money, an’
when he don’t work I lose jest so much money.”
“I understand,” replied the stranger quickly. “I am a business man
myself, and I’m willing to pay for whatever time I kept this young man
from his work. I guess we can figure it out. We’ll say I took up about
ten minutes of his time. That’s one sixth of an hour. Now how much do
you pay him by the hour?”
“I don’t pay him by the hour,” replied Mr. Savage, a little confused.
“Well, by the day, then.”
“I don’t pay him by th’ day, nuther.”
“Oh, I see. You hire him by the week.”
“No, sir, not exactly. Dan, git on with that shellin’. There ain’t no
call fer ye t’ stand loafin’ now. Me an’ this gentleman kin settle our
business between ourselves.”
The truth was he did not want Dan to hear what was said, as Mr. Savage
was just a little bit ashamed of himself. Dan began feeding the yellow
ears into the chute, but the noise of the sheller did not prevent him
hearing what was said further.
“Then if you’ll tell me what his week’s wages are, I think I can figure
out what I owe you,” and the stranger took out pencil and paper.
“Wa’al, he don’t exactly work by the week nuther.”
“That’s so, I’d forgotten. Farm hands generally work for so much a
month and their board. What are his monthly wages?”
“Look a-here!” exclaimed Mr. Savage. “That’s my affair. What right ye
got t’ come around here, askin’ me my business?”
“No right,” replied the stranger coolly, “only I wanted to make up for
the time I kept this boy from his work.”
“Wa’al, I guess ef ye give me a quarter we’ll call it square.”
“I’m satisfied if you are,” replied the stranger, passing over the
money. “Twenty-five cents for ten minutes, is at the rate of a dollar
and a half an hour. In ten hours, which, I believe, is the farm day, he
earns fifteen dollars. That’s very good wages for a boy like him.”
“Look a-here!” blustered Mr. Savage. “I don’t pay him no fifteen
dollars a day, an’ ye know it. No farm-hand gits that much; I don’t
myself. But if ye come around here, stickin’ yer nose in my business,
ye got t’ pay fer it, that’s all. Now ye’d better git away from here
fer I might charge ye rent,” and he grinned in a malicious manner.
“Thank you, I’m just about to leave,” said the man, as he walked out of
the barn.
“Wa’al, ye’d better.”
The stranger smiled as he walked away, and Dan, watching him, saw him
take a little red book out of his pocket, and write something in it.
“Do ye know that man?” asked Mr. Savage, turning to Dan, when the
stranger was out of sight down the road, which ran in front of the barn.
“No, sir. He came in here and began asking me questions.”
“What kind?”
“About the people and houses in the village.”
“Humph! Some pesky book agent, I’ll bet half a cooky.”
“I don’t know what he was,” replied Dan. “He said he was looking for a
friend, and he wanted to know about Mr. Lee’s brother, Simon.”
“That good-for-nothing? Wa’al, ef he’s a friend of Simon Lee, I ain’t
got no use fer him. Now you git on with yer work, an’ don’t stand
talkin’ here all day. Ye’ve got t’ shell that corn before night, or
ye’ll have t’ do it after ye help Mrs. Savage with th’ house work.”
Dan again bent his back to the task, turning the big wheel faster to
make up for the time he had lost through no fault of his own. Mr.
Savage pocketed the quarter the man had given him, first biting it to
see that it was not a lead one.
“When ye git done here I want ye t’ go down t’ th’ south pasture, an’
let th’ old black bull out, an’ inter the upper lot,” he called to Dan,
raising his voice to be heard above the noise of the corn sheller.
“Ye’ll have t’ be mighty spry, too, fer he’s as ugly as sin, an’ he’ll
break out of the pasture ef he git’s a chance.”
“I’ll be careful,” promised Dan.
As the boy went on with his work, after his employer had left him, he
could not help thinking of the rather mysterious stranger, who had
asked so many questions.
“I wonder what he wanted?” he said to himself. “Perhaps he was a new
doctor, looking for a place to establish a practice. But I don’t
believe Hayden is big enough for two doctors. Maybe, as Mr. Savage
says, he’s a book agent. He seemed to have plenty of money. He figured
out I get fifteen dollars a day. Land! if I got fifteen cents for
myself I’d be lucky,” and Dan sighed.
It was afternoon before he had finished shelling the corn, and he was
quite tired. Yet he rather welcomed the long walk to the south pasture
to let the bull into the upper lot. The animal was a large one, and was
well known about the countryside as a savage creature, somewhat like
his owner.
“I hope he doesn’t get out,” thought Dan, as he neared the pasture. “I
guess the best way would be to go in quietly, so he doesn’t catch sight
of me, let down the bars leading into the upper lot, and then show
myself. The bull will begin to run around as he always does, then he’ll
notice that the bars are down, and he’ll go just where I want him to.”
Dan saw the bull quietly feeding off in one corner of the pasture.
The boy managed to get in without attracting the animal’s attention,
and let down the bars leading into the south lot, where the grass was
better, for that was the reason Mr. Savage wanted the animal shifted
from one spot to the other.
All would have gone well, but for the fact, of which Dan was not aware,
that there was a weak place in the fence enclosing the upper lot,
where the bull was expected to go. When the bars were down Dan shouted
to attract the animal’s attention, and then he took a safe position
outside the fence.
The black bull came forward on the run, thinking some fool-hardy person
had dared to dispute his rights. The animal caught sight of the lowered
bars, and, a moment later had done just as Dan expected, run into the
upper lot.
Then something else happened. The bull, who was up to all such tricks,
saw a weak spot in the fence. At it he went, full tilt, and, a moment
later was off down the road bellowing and kicking up a cloud of dust.
“The bull has escaped!” cried Dan. “Oh, what shall I do? He may kill
somebody before he’s caught! Mr. Savage will blame me!” and he started
down the highway in pursuit of the ugly animal.