ill arm at the fugitives. "Only I'll whale your measly
head off if you do!"

The invitation and the gesture that went with it seemed to rouse some
long-dormant memory in the collie's soul. Like a flash he was off in
flying pursuit of the sheep. Ferris, in the crazy rage which possessed
him, hoped Chum might bite at least one of the senseless creatures that
were causing him such a waste of precious time and of grudged effort.

Wherefore he did not call back the fastrunning collie. It would be time
enough to whale the daylight out of him--yes, and to rescue his
possible victims from death--when the dog should have overhauled the
woolly pests. So, in dour fury, Link watched the pursuit and the flight.

Then, of a sudden, the black rage in Ferris's visage changed to
perplexity, and slowly from that to crass wonderment.

Six of the sheep had remained bunched in their runaway dash, while all
the rest had scattered singly. It was after this bleating sextet that
Chum was now racing.

Nor did he stop when he came up with them. Tearing past them he wheeled
almost in midair and slackened his pace, running transversely ahead of
them and breaking into a clamor of barks.

The six, seeing their foe menacing them from in front, came to a
jumbled and slithering halt, preparing to break their formation and to
scatter. But Chum would not have it so.

Still threatening them with his thunderous bark he made little dashes
at one or another of them that tried to break away; and he crowded back
the rest.

As a result, there was but one direction the dazed sheep could
take--the direction whence they had come. And, uncertainly,
shamblingly, they made their way back toward the fold.

Scarce had they been fairly started in their cowed progress when Chum
was off at a tangent, deserting his six charges and bearing down with
express train speed on a stray wether that had paused in his escape to
nibble at a line of early peas in the truck garden.

At sight of the approaching collie the sheep flung up its head and
began again to run. But the dog was in front of it, whichever way the
panic-stricken animal turned;--in every direction but one. And in that
direction fled the fugitive. Nor did it stop in its headlong flight
until it was alongside the six which Chum had first "turned".

Pausing only long enough to round up one or two sheep which were
breaking loose from the bunch Chum was off again in headlong chase of
still another and anothe