"Git my hoss, Rube," said old Joel, and Rube turned to the stable, while Dolph
kept an eye on the sheep, which were lying on the road or straggling down the
river. As Rube opened the stable-door, a dirty white object bounded out, and
Rube, with a loud curse, tumbled over backward into the mud, while a fierce
old ram dashed with a triumphant bleat for the open gate. Beelzebub, as the
Turner mother had christened the mischievous brute, had been placed in the
wrong stall and Beelzebub was making for freedom. He gave another triumphant
baa as he swept between Dolph's legs and through the gate, and, with an
answering chorus, the silly sheep sprang to their feet and followed. A sheep
hates water, but not more than he loves a leader, and Beelzebub feared
nothing. Straight for the water of the low ford the old conqueror made and, in
the wake of his masterful summons, the flock swept, like a Mormon household,
after him. Then was there a commotion indeed. Old Joel shouted and swore;
Dolph shouted and swore and Rube shouted and swore. Old Dillon smiled grimly,
Daws and little Tad shouted with derisive laughter, and the big twins grinned.
The mother came to the door, broom in hand, and, with a frowning face, watched
the sheep splash through the water and into the woods across the river. Little
Melissa looked frightened. Whizzer, losing his head, had run down after the
sheep, barking and hastening their flight, until called back with a mighty
curse from old Joel, while Jack sat on his haunches looking at Chad and
waiting for orders.

"Goddlemighty!" said Joel, "how air we goin' to git them sheep back?" Up and
up rose the bleating and baaing, for Beelzebub, like the prince of devils that
he was, seemed bent on making all the mischief possible.

"How AIR we goin' to git 'em back?"

Chad nodded then, and Jack with an eager yelp made for the river--Whizzer at
his heels. Again old Joel yelled furiously, as did Dolph and Rube, and Whizzer