corral all right, but I'm so fat I can't reach him from the saddle. I
wish you'd just halter him with this rope, so I can lead him up to the
house and let Phil and the boys see what's wrong with him."

Patches took the rope and started toward the corral gate. "Shall I put
it around his neck and make a hitch over his nose, like you do a horse?"
he asked, glad for the opportunity to exhibit his newly acquired
knowledge of ropes and horses and things.

"No, just tie it around his horns," the Dean answered. "He'll come, all
right."

The bull, seeing a man on foot at the entrance to his prison, rumbled a
deep-voiced threat, and pawed the earth with angry strength.

For an instant, Patches, with his hand on the latch of the gate, paused
to glance from the dangerous-looking animal, that awaited his coming, to
the Dean who sat on his horse just outside the fence. Then he slipped
inside the corral and closed the gate behind him. The bull gazed at him
a moment as if amazed at the audacity of this mere human, then lowered
his head for the charge.

"Climb that gate, quick," yelled the Dean at the critical moment.

And Patches climbed--not a second too soon.

From his position of safety he smiled cheerfully at the Dean. "He came
all right, didn't he?"

The Dean's full rounded front and thick shoulders shook with laughter,