"I'll do the talking," declared Roy; "if you said anything, Jimsy, there
might be a row."
"All right," laughed Jimsy, regarding his "roped and tied captive."
"I suppose you are an expert on dealing with ram owners."
"Well, I'm on to their mental ramifications," laughed Roy.
The sheep driver, an elderly man, accompanied by a youth, came up to
them now. He touched his hat civilly as he approached.
"Good afternoon. No one hurt, I hope," he said.
The girls looked greatly relieved. After all, the man was not rude or
angry as they had feared.
"Oh, no, thank you," cried Jess, before Roy or Jimsy could open their
mouths. "I hope he isn't though."
"Hurt!" exclaimed the ram's owner, "why you couldn't hurt him with a
steam hammer. Why, day 'afore yesterday the blame thing went for my
wife. Hoofs and horns--yes, sir! Most knocked her down, he did. I'll
fix him."
"What's his name?" asked Bess.
"Hannibal," said the man, without the flicker of a facial muscle.
"I should think Cannonball would be a better name for him," struck in
Jimsy, with that funny, serious face he always assumed when 'joshing'.
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