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Page 31
On it came, its head lowered almost to the ground. Then a huge green
and white monster loomed up before the animal, and with a snort of
mingled rage and horror the bull stopped short in its tracks. The
strange green and white object now lunging at full tilt was far more
terrible than the small, red, flame-like object that fled its approach.
Rage conquering fear, the bull gave a dreadful roar and made a quick
lunge at Madge. She sprang to one side but managed to thrust her
umbrella full in the animal's face. With a rumble of defiance the bull
dodged the umbrella and made another lunge at Madge. Its lowered horns
never reached her. A rope swung skilfully forward caught the animal by
the leg just in time. One swift pull and the bull went down. The
owner of the animal had witnessed its charge upon Miss Jones and,
rushing across the field, had roped it. The artist who had attracted
Miss Jenny Ann's attention had also come to the rescue, but it was
really Madge with her green and white umbrella who had saved their
chaperon from the bull's horns.
Miss Jones, who had raised herself to a sitting position, stared wildly
about her, still firmly clutching the red parasol.
The artist sprang to her side and raised her to her feet. "It was this
that made the mischief," he said, touching her parasol. "I shouted to
you to drop it."
"But I didn't hear you," defended the teacher faintly. Her two long
braids of fair hair had become unfastened and were now hanging down her
back, giving her the appearance of a girl. "I heard some one calling
to me, or I would never have entered that dreadful field." Miss Jones
eyed the artist reproachfully. "Was it you who shouted my name?"
"Was it I?" repeated the young man in astonishment. "Certainly not. I
do not know your name."
"My name is 'Jones,'" Miss Jenny Ann faltered weakly. She was still
feeling dazed and weak.
"And my name is 'Brown,'" the artist answered, with an expression of
solemn gravity. But the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.
There was a faint chuckle from Madge that went the round of the group
and, despite the fact that the chaperon's narrow escape had been far
from ludicrous, the whole party burst into laughter.
"I am sorry," apologized the artist. "Please forgive me for laughing."
The farmer had in the meantime led the bull away, and now Eleanor and
Lillian came running toward the group to see if Miss Jenny Ann were
truly hurt. When they saw the whole party shaking with laughter, the
two girls exchanged curious glances. "Luncheon has been waiting half
an hour," Eleanor declared rather crossly. "Do come and eat it. We
would not have come after you if we had known that you were having such
a good time."
Madge glanced at their chaperon, then at the artist. He was evidently
a gentleman, and she recognized that he was possessed of a keen sense
of humor. It would seem rude and ungrateful to run away and leave him
just as their luncheon was announced, when he had raced all the way
across the meadow to assist in the rescue of their Miss Jenny Ann.
"Won't you come and eat luncheon with us?" asked Madge boldly, fearing
their chaperon would be dreadfully shocked.
The artist shook his head. "I'd like to accept your invitation if Miss
Jones will second it," he replied, looking at Miss Jenny Ann.
"You would he delighted to have Mr. Brown take luncheon with us, Miss
Jenny Ann, wouldn't you?" Madge turned coaxing eyes upon their teacher.
"I should be very ungracious if I were not," laughed their chaperon,
the color rising to her brown cheeks. "Mr. Brown will be a welcome
guest."
And five minutes later Mr. Brown was triumphantly escorted aboard their
beloved "Merry Maid."
CHAPTER XI
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