CHAPTER II
The man bent his lips to hers again, and her arms stole about his neck. The calf, in the meantime, perhaps disgusted by such absurdities, had scampered off to try his brand-new legs again, with the result that he ran into a low bush, turned a somersault, and landed on his back. The mother, still doubtful of the intentions of the new-comers, to whose malevolent presence she may have attributed the accident, voiced a perturbed low; whereupon there broke from the vicinity of the live oak a deep note, not unlike the rumbling of distant thunder.
The man looked up.
"I think we'll be going," he said. "The Emperor has issued an ultimatum."
"Or a bull, perhaps," Grace suggested, as they walked quickly toward her horse.
"Awful!" he commented, as he assisted her into the saddle.
Then he swung to his own.
The Emperor moved majestically toward them, his nose close to the ground. Occasionally he stopped, pawing the earth and throwing dust upon his broad back.
"Doesn't he look wicked?" cried the girl. "Just look at those eyes!"
"He's just an old bluffer," replied the man. "How-ever, I'd rather have you in the saddle, for you can't always be sure just what they'll do. We must call his bluff, though; it would never do to run from him—might give him bad habits."
He rode toward the advancing animal, breaking into a canter as he drew near the bull, and striking his booted leg with a quirt.
