Holstein were hidden somewhere in the recesses of the
second-growth timber.

The afternoon was hot; it had been a hot day. Link was tired. He
dreaded the labor of exploring ten acres of undergrowth for his
two missing cattle. An inspiration came to him. Pointing to the
three stolidly waiting cows at the bars he waved his arm in the
general direction of the lot and called on Chum.

"Go find 'em! Bring 'em in!"

Almost before the words were spoken Ferris regretted them. He
hated to dim the luster of his dog's earlier exploits by giving
him a job beyond his skill. And this time Chum did not flash
forward with his former zest. He stood, ears cocked, glancing
uncertainly from Link to the three cows already waiting.

Then, as he still peered doubtfully, one of the bovine trio took
fright at the dog and trotted clumsily away toward the woods.
Link gave chase. He had not gone three steps before Chum caught
the idea. Whirling past Ferris he headed off the surprised,
indignant cow, and by dint of a flurry of barks and dashes
started her back toward the bars.

Her bell jangled dolefully as she obeyed the noisy urge. And from
somewhere among the bushes, two hundred yards away, a second
cowbell sounded in answer. At this distant tinkle Chum evidently
grasped the meaning of his master's earlier mandate. For he
galloped away in the direction of the sound.