“It’s a set-up job of Columbia when they’re getting licked, that’s what!” Ralph heard everything that was said. At the same time he drew back his arm, with the intention of delivering as swift a ball as he possibly could. Of course, it could hardly be expected that such a puny thing as a baseball would be sufficient to drive the bull away; but it was all Ralph could do--and he did it to the best of his ability. “Straight to the bull’s-eye, Ralph!” came a last shout, just as he let go; and somehow it gave the boy more or less satisfaction to know that he had indeed done as directed. The hard ball struck the animal with tremendous force on the side of the head, and, bounding off, fell upon the diamond. Perhaps the blow astonished the unwelcome visitor at the game. He seemed to stop a few seconds as if trying to figure just where the new assault had come from. “At him, boys!” shouted Frank, enabled to come up because of this little delay. A dozen lads, Bellport players as well as those of Columbia, had armed themselves with bats. They were close at Frank’s heels when he started in to belabor the bull on the flanks vigorously. One assailant the big fellow might have attacked, but the multitude cowed him. Possibly he was not a very vicious animal after all. Be that as it might, the boys surrounded him like a wall, and forced him to trot off toward the broken fence. He was last seen kicking up his heels as he went through the gap, and his bellow a few seconds afterward announced that while he may have thought it prudent to retreat before superior numbers, his spirit was not crushed. Frank, while the others returned toward the diamond, winded a little from their efforts, took a look at the fence as he was temporarily fixing up the several boards that lay upon the ground. “These were all right before the game started. Either some fellows knocked them off to get in without paying, or else it was a set-up job to give trouble.” This last idea made him instantly think of the fellow most likely to engineer a miserable game like this--Lef Seller. He remembered seeing the bully over on the field at the end of the bleachers some little time before, and several of his cronies with him. Could he have possibly taken advantage of every eye being riveted on the close game to play this dangerous prank? Some one might have been seriously injured by the coming of the bull. “What’s this.” Just before putting up the last plank Frank had thrust his head through the opening to see what had become of the baffled bull. His eye had fallen on something red lying in the rank grass close to the fence. “It’s a red bandana handkerchief, and a new one, too, that has never even been in the wash. And that was what they used to lure Mr. Bull in here. Well, perhaps a fellow may think that a joke, but if half a dozen women or children had been gored he might have gone to prison for it.” He looked at the gaudy thing again.