Bentley, but Dick's chums
came closer.
"Hoo-hoo! hoo-hoo!" sounded a masculine voice from the direction
of Dick & Co.'s camp.
"Hoo-hoo!" Dick answered, in his loudest tone. "Who are you?"
"Hibbert," came the reply. "I understand you are bull chasing!"
"Yes."
"Want any help?"
"Yes; if you're an expert in handling wild bulls," Dick shouted
back, between his hands.
"I guess that will hold him, for a little while," chuckled Dave.
"The idea of Hibbert handling wild bulls with those dainty little
white hands of his!"
Soon the sound of running steps was heard. Then on the scene
came Hibbert, carrying a second rope that he had found.
"A queer hitch-up you've got there," murmured the dapper little
man, as he halted near the group.
"Yes; and the bull is going to get away pretty soon, according
to all predictions," replied Tom Reade. "Though, perhaps, Mr.
Hibbert, you may have an idea that hasn't occurred to our addled
brains."
"That's hardly likely," murmured the young man, as he began to
tie a running noose in one end of the rope with an air of
preoccupation. "I don't know very much about cattle."
"I suppose not," Tom nodded.
"The very little that I know about the beasts," Hibbert went on
quietly, "was what I picked up during my college vacations, when
my good old Dad sent me west to rough it on a ranch.
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