h lowered head
and horns, charged into the tree and made it shake as if a storm had
struck.

[Illustration: He was only in the nick of time.--_Page 22._]

"Wow! That's the time he got a headache!" cried Tom excitedly, as the
professor, clinging desperately to his refuge, was almost flung
from it by the shock.

"Gracious, boys, what shall I do?" he asked, looking about him from
his leafy perch with a glance of despair that would have been comical
had the situation not been serious, for the bull, instead of accepting
his defeat, stood under the tree pawing and ramping ferociously.

"Well, here's a fine kettle of fish!" exclaimed Jack. "What are we
going to do now?"

"Blessed if I know," said Dick helplessly. "By the bucking bulls of
Bedlam, this is a nice mess."

"Maybe we could throw rocks at him and chase him away," suggested Tom.

"No chance; he's got his eye on the professor," returned Jack, "and if
we did get out he would chase us and that wouldn't do the professor
any good."

"Can't you help me, boys," inquired the professor in an agonized tone.
"This tree limb is not exactly--er--comfortable."

"You're in no danger of falling, are you?" called Jack, in an alarmed
voice.

"No--er--that is, I don't think so. But this is an extraordinary
position. Most--er--undignified. I'm glad my sister can't see me."

"Try throwing some of the rocks out of your satchel at him," suggested
Dick.

But the professor waxed indignant at this proposal.

"And cast my pearls before swine! or rather my specimens before a
bull!" exclaimed the professor, in helpless indignation. "No, young
gentlemen, not a pebble from this bag is wasted on that creature."

"I'd drop the whole bag on him," said Dick, "if I was in that
position. It's heavy enough to knock out an elephant, let alone a
bull."

"Can't you suggest anything?" wailed the professor.

"I'm trying to think of something right now," declared Jack, racking
his brains for some way out of the predicament.

"I wish the farmer that owned him would come along and get his old
bull out of there," said Dick.

"Yes, and then there would be fresh complications," declared Jack.

"How do you make that out?" came from Dick.

"He'll probably know how to handle him," supplemented Tom.

"Yes, he would if he's a bull-fighter," scoffed Dick, "and I never
heard of there being any matadors in the vicinity of Nestorville."

"Lots of doormats, though," grinned Tom.

"Say, if you do