The day passed slowly, for the place afforded nothing in the way of amusement, and even if it had, Dave was too much worried about his father to be interested. All went out among the sheep and saw them fed. The folds were long, low, and narrow, and the occupants huddled together "just like a flock of sheep," as Roger remarked with a grin.
"What timid creatures they are," said he, a httle later. "I suppose you can do almost anything with them."
"Not with the rams," answered Dave. And then he went on: "Do you remember Farmer Cadmore's ram and how we put him in Job Haskers' room:
"I don't believe these animals are quite so ugly," said the senator's son, and went up to one of the rams in question. The animal backed away a few feet, then of a sudden it leaped forward, lowered its head, and sent Roger sprawling on his back.
"Wow!" grunted the youth. "Ho! chase him off!" And he lost no time in rolling over and getting out of harm's way. "Gracious, but that was a crack in the stomach, all right!" he groaned.
"He's what you can call a battering-ram," observed Dave.
"Yes, and a ram-bunctious one at that."
"Don't ram-ble in your talk, Roger."
