KIZNER'S PET SHEEP.

BY LEWIS B. MILLER.

The wagon was about to start, and Mrs. Adams leaned out to say: "Now, Billy, stay close around here to-day, you and Dick, and take care of things, and don't let anybody get into the house. Water the hogs about twelve."

"And you'd better cut an armful of corn-tops and give the calves, too," added Billy's father.

"Yes, sir, I will," answered Billy, dutifully.

"Dick, I want you to be a good boy to-day, and not get into any trouble, whatever you do," cautioned Mrs. Dunlap, Dick's mother. She knew his proneness to mischief and accidents, and thinking it might be well to hold out some extra inducements, added, "If you behave yourself right nicely, maybe I'll buy you something the next time I go to town."

"Yes'm," was Dick's non-committal response. He had heard that promise a great many times before.

The wagon started. Mr. Adams and Mr. Dunlap occupied the spring seat in front, while their wives sat just behind them in straight-backed chairs. In the rear end five or six small children were sitting on straw on the bottom of the wagon-bed.

"Billy," called back Mrs. Adams, "you'll find some fried chicken for your dinner in the stove oven, and a pie in the safe, and some—" The rest was lost in the jolting of the wagon. That was of little consequence, however, for the two boys had no fears of not being able to find everything there was on the place to eat when the time came.

It was a morning in August. The people in the wagon had started to a camp-meeting a few miles away, and did not expect to return till late at night. Twelve-year-old Billy had been left at home to look after things, and Dick had insisted upon staying to keep him company. The two were of the same age, but Billy was considerably the larger. Billy had on his every-day clothes, and was bare-footed, while Dick looked rather uncomfortable in his Sunday suit and shoes and stockings.

"Guess I'll take these off," he said, seating himself on the doorstep and beginning to untie his shoes. "There, that feels better," he added, as he put the superfluous articles in at the door and looked down at his bare feet. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't care. Anything you say."

"Then let's go swimming," suggested Dick. "Too hot to do anything else."

"Ma told me to stay pretty close about home. Somebody went into Mr. Lawson's house last week, when there wasn't anybody there, and took a whole lot of things. Guess she's afraid the same fellow will get into ours, whoever it was."

"Can't you lock the house?"

"Not from the outside. The front door will fasten on the inside, and so will the windows. But the kitchen door won't fasten at all. The lock is off."

After going through the house to see what could be done, Billy said: "I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll fasten everything but the kitchen door, and then bring old Ring down and tie him close to that. He won't let anybody get in."

Dick endorsed this plan, and they proceeded to carry it out. A stake was driven into the ground, and the dog's chain was fastened to it. Ring was part bull-dog, and rather too fond of using his teeth on strangers to be permitted to run at large.

"You'll keep 'em away, won't you, Ring?" said Billy, patting the dog's head. Then he brought a pan of water and placed it in Ring's reach, and they were ready to start.

Passing out through the gate, which they closed, but carelessly neglected to fasten, they crossed the prairie ridge that lay north of the house, and walked on slowly toward the swimming-place. The creek was more than a mile away. After reaching it, they amused themselves for an hour or two, then put on their clothes and started back.

Before coming in sight of the house they heard Ring barking furiously. Both started on a run to see what was the matter.

As soon as they came to where they could look over the ridge, Billy burst out laughing.

"It's Kizner's pet sheep. He's got into the yard, and Ring's barking at 'im. Just watch the old ram, will you, making out like he's going to butt Ring! He knows Ring's tied or he wouldn't be so bold. Just see Ring rear and charge! Wouldn't he like to get to 'im once?"

"Is it old Aleck?" asked Dick. "If it is, he's not afraid of any dog. Tommy Hendricks says he gets after their dog sometimes, and runs 'im back into the yard. He butts like everything, that old sheep does. Tommy's half scared to death of 'im."

"Huh!" exclaimed Billy, contemptuously. "Tommy may be, but I'm not. If he fools with me I'll give 'im rocks, and turn old Ring loose on 'im to boot. I'd just like to see 'im run him!"

"Better go slow," cautioned Dick. "You don't know that old ram. The Kizner boys taught 'im to butt when he was a little bit of a thing, and he's been getting worse and worse ever since. Why, my pa was going along over on the branch last spring, and found Aleck sticking in a mud-hole. So he up and helped 'im out, and was going ahead, when, zip! something took 'im behind. It was Aleck butting 'im. That's the kind of a sheep old Aleck is. And the old fellow was so poor then he could hardly walk. He's big and fat now, I guess."

Billy laughed heartily. "What did your pa do?" he asked.

"Why, he caught 'im and pitched 'im back into the mud-hole; but I guess he got out somehow."

"Well, I'm not afraid of 'im," declared Billy, and he began to fill his pockets with stones of a size suitable for throwing.

Taking courage from Billy, Dick did the same. Then they hurried in at the gate, and ran round to the back of the house, where the sheep and the dog were tantalizing each other.

Aleck was a vicious-looking old ram, large and strong, with curled horns, and a head made on purpose for butting. Perhaps he had received his name because of his fighting powers. At any rate, it suited him very well.

Both Ring and the sheep were out of temper. Ring was growling and barking and tugging at his chain, doing his best to get loose. Aleck charged toward him occasionally, and did not seem to be in the least afraid.

"Get out of here!" shouted Billy, as he rushed round the house and threw a stone at the ram, missing him.

Dick threw one also, with better aim, for it struck the ram on the side. Aleck promptly turned his attention to the new-comers. He was in just the right mood to deal with them.

What took place during the next few minutes the two boys had only a confused recollection of afterwards. Each was conscious of being knocked sprawling, and of trying to rise, and being knocked down again. Every time one of them started to get on his feet he was sent rolling over the hard ground. How the ram managed to move fast enough to keep both of them down they were too much excited to observe; but he did it easily, and would probably have kept a third boy down at the same time if there had been three.

At last, after being knocked and rolled some distance, they were near the stake-and-ridered fence which enclosed the large yard. Dick made a rush on his hands and knees, and succeeded in climbing the fence far enough to tumble through between the fence and the rider. Once on the other side, he was safe enough.

Billy was not so fortunate. He saw a large opening between the rails near the ground, and tried to crawl through it, but it proved to be too small for a boy of his size, and he stuck fast. He called loudly for help, and Dick promptly seized him by the arm and tried to pull him out of the crack.

BILLY COMES THROUGH THE FENCE, ASSISTED BY DICK AND THE RAM.

Whether their efforts alone would have been successful is uncertain; but the sheep was rendering material assistance on the other side. By the united effect of Dick's pulling and Aleck's vigorous pushes, Billy was at last rescued from his exciting position.

With the exception of a few bruises, neither of the boys was hurt, but the appearance of both indicated the rough treatment they had received. Dick's Sunday clothes looked even worse than Billy's every-day ones. Their hats had been left on the other side of the fence.

They looked at each other ruefully for a few moments; then both began to laugh.

"My! didn't he knock us while he was about it?" said Billy. "It just made my head swim, the way he kept us tumbling and rolling."

"Mine too. And he did it so quick. He didn't give a fellow time to say scat before he was right on 'im."

The boys walked round the yard fence, throwing stones at the ram and trying to drive him out. Aleck, however, showed no inclination to go. He stalked back and forth across the yard, perhaps longing for more boys to conquer. But the two who had just escaped him had no intention of getting in his reach again.

What to do they did not know. The sheep was between them and the only unlocked entrance to the house.

"If old Ring was just loose once, he'd soon fix 'im," declared Billy, who believed that Ring could whip anything but an elephant.

"Couldn't you slip around the house and get to Ring before Aleck saw you?"

"Don't believe I want to try it," answered Billy, as he rubbed one bruised knee. He had a great deal of respect for Aleck by this time. "You can if you want to."

Dick didn't want to. "Well, what are we going to do?" he asked, feeling that Billy, being at home, should find some way out of the difficulty.

"I don't know," replied Billy, scratching his head, "unless we just sit down and wait till the old sheep gets ready to leave."

Dick's face fell. He was thinking of the pie and fried chicken which Billy's mother had spoken of as the wagon drove off. "Must be nearly two o'clock," he remarked, glancing up at the sun.

"Yes, I guess it is. I'm feeling mighty hungry. How are you?"

"I'm half starved," answered Dick, emphatically, very glad of an opportunity to mention the matter, which, being company, he had not felt at liberty to speak of before. "I do wish we could get in somehow or other. If we only just hadn't left the gate open!"

They walked round to get in the shade of the smoke-house, for the sun shone hot on their bare heads. Aleck kept watching them, as if he expected they would come into the yard again.

For an hour or more they stood by the smoke-house, discussing various plans of getting the dog loose. All their hopes centred in Ring. It was easy to suggest ways of reaching him, but they all required courage—more courage than either of the boys possessed so soon after their disastrous encounter with Aleck.

Finally Billy suggested a plan that was wholly original. The smoke-house, which was of logs, stood at the back end of the yard, the rear of it forming a part of the yard fence. The ground sloped considerably from the smoke-house to the kitchen door.

"We can climb in at the gable end of the smoke-house," Billy explained, "and take one of the empty barrels there and put it out at the door; and one of us can get in it and roll right down to the kitchen. Then there won't be anything to do but just turn Ring loose and watch the wool fly."

Dick was enthusiastic over this plan as soon as he heard it. He was sure that it would succeed.

Climbing through an opening in the gable, they were soon in the smoke-house. There were three or four empty flour-barrels against the wall, each having an end out. One of these they moved to the door, and were on the point of opening the door to put it outside.

"How are you going to get in, Billy—head first or feet first?"

"I expect, maybe, you'd better roll, Dick. You're smaller than I am, and you can get in the barrel further."

Dick's enthusiasm died out very suddenly at this suggestion, and he looked discouraged. He had taken it for granted that Billy would be the one to get into the barrel.

"Oh, you can crawl in easy, Billy! There's just lots of room in there for you."

"But I can start the barrel to rolling better than you can," insisted Billy.

Perhaps Dick would have consented to go, but just then the sheep, hearing voices in the smoke-house, came nearer to investigate, and Dick's courage failed.

There was another long discussion between the two boys, each urging the other to get into the barrel. Finally Billy took out his "Barlow" pocket-knife. It had but one blade, and had cost ten cents.

"I'll give you that if you'll roll," he proposed.

Dick had no knife, and looked longingly at the offered reward. Then he looked out through a crack at Aleck, and shook his head.

Billy put his hand in his other pocket and took out some marbles. "Then I'll give you them," he said, spreading them out temptingly on his hand.

"Will you give me them and the knife too?"

"Not much, I won't," Billy answered, emphatically. "I wouldn't give you both if you rolled all the way to Granbury." Granbury was the nearest town.

Again they discussed the matter for several minutes. Aleck was nibbling at some tufts of grass. The boys were growing hungrier, and now and then glanced up longingly at some middlings of bacon hanging over their heads.

"I don't care," said Billy at length, being rendered desperate by hunger. "You can have the marbles and knife too. Let's open the door enough to put the barrel out."

Dick did not seem to be at all elated over having his offer accepted. "I don't know about it," he said, hesitatingly. "Don't believe I want to."

"But you said you would," urged Billy. "If you don't, that'll be backing out."

"Aleck might butt the barrel with me in it," objected Dick.

"Who ever heard of a sheep butting a barrel? And what if he does? He can't hurt you and you inside of it."

"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll give me the knife and marbles, and that long lead-pencil of yours to boot, then I'll get in the barrel and roll."

"No, sirree!" declared Billy, indignant at Dick's cupidity. "You don't get any lead-pencil from me. I'll stay here a year first. Why, I wouldn't give you that pencil and all the other things besides if you rolled all the way to Missouri." Billy's parents had removed from Missouri to Texas when he was small, and Missouri was farther than any other place he knew of.

They remained silent a short while, hunger all the time gnawing at their vitals. It seemed several days since they had eaten anything. At last Billy could stand it no longer. "I don't care. Go ahead, and I'll throw the pencil in. Now don't back out this time, or I won't have anything to do with you any more."

Dick was so pressed by hunger that he had been on the point of accepting the knife and marbles, so he was glad to take advantage of the more liberal offer.

The door of the smoke-house was opened cautiously and the barrel put out, the open end near the door. Then Dick hastily crawled into it, head first. Billy leaned out of the door and turned the barrel so that it would roll toward Ring. Aleck had learned that something was going on, and was coming to find out if he could take any part in it.

"Here you go!" shouted Billy, giving the barrel a vigorous push, and then shutting the door to keep Aleck out.

DICK'S TRAVELS ASSISTED BY ALECK.

The sheep, however, was giving his attention to the barrel. He evidently suspected a trick, and he also saw Dick's feet, which persisted in sticking out at the open end, for the barrel was a small one. He rushed toward it, striking it with his head so as to cause it to move faster, but in a different direction. When at last it came to a standstill, it was against the fence at one side of the yard, at about the point where the boys had escaped from the sheep.

Dick was pretty badly scared, knowing that something had happened. But when he felt the barrel stop, he started to crawl out backward.

"Stay in! stay in!" shouted Billy, frantically. "Aleck's right there! You're not close to Ring at all!"

"Get 'im away, Billy!" entreated Dick, from the depths of the barrel. "Get him away somehow!"

"I can't!" answered Billy, helplessly.

"Get out and let him run after you!"

Billy opened the smoke-house door and ventured a few feet from it. Aleck did not see him, and he advanced a few feet farther. Then an idea occurred to him, and he did what he might have done sooner if he had not been afraid—made a dash toward Ring. The dog's collar was quickly unbuckled.

"Sick 'im, Ring!" shouted Billy; but Ring needed no encouragement. His only wish for the last two or three hours had been to get to the sheep.

A few moments later, Aleck, after a fierce but brief struggle, was lying on the ground bleating for mercy, while the dog held him by the throat. But for the boys, Ring would soon have finished him. They forced the dog to release his hold, not because they felt any kindness for Aleck, but because they were afraid their fathers would have to pay for him if he should be killed. As soon as the ram was released he sprang up, rushed round the house, out at the gate, and down the road as fast as his legs could carry him, and was never seen there again.

"Don't you think you ought to give back the knife and marbles and pencil?" asked Billy, after they had watched Aleck till he disappeared, "You didn't turn Ring loose like you were to."

"No, I won't," declared Dick. "I did my part. I rolled. I couldn't help where the barrel went to."

"Oh, all right," said Billy, in indifferent tones; but he looked disappointed.

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Billy," said Dick, relenting a little as he followed Billy into the kitchen. "I'll keep the knife, and give you back the marbles and pencil. Isn't that fair!"

"Why, yes, that's fair enough, Dick," answered Billy, looking pleased. "And let's give Ring some fried chicken and a little piece of pie for his dinner. He helped us. If it hadn't been for him, no telling how long that old sheep would have kept us out."

"All right!" was the enthusiastic response; and they began to make hasty preparations for the long-delayed meal.