Confronting the Equine Ox was the conductor, who was waving his hands and shouting, while the motorman was stooping over, a little way off, gathering up a smooth round stone about the size of an egg. Meanwhile the tinkle of the bell sounded continuously, and the Equine Ox wriggled and writhed as if very much displeased with his imprisonment. The motorman being nearest to him, Billy addressed him: “What are you going to do with that stone?” he inquired. “Throw it at the Ox,” replied the motorman. “Oh, don’t do that,” pleaded Billy. “You might hurt him. And he isn’t doing anything bad, I’m sure.” “He isn’t, isn’t he?” shouted the motorman. “Ain’t he lashing his tail?” “What of that?” asked Billy. “All animals lash their tails except bears and saddle horses and fox-hunters, which haven’t any tails to lash.” “But his tail is caught in the bell rope,” said the motorman, hurling the stone at the Equine Ox. The stone broke a window, and although it did not reach its target, it annoyed the creature so that he struggled more frantically than before, and the bell jingled furiously. [Illustration: “Confronting the Equine Ox was the conductor, waving his hand and shouting”] “Stop,” cried the conductor excitedly. “It’s getting too expensive for me.” “Expensive!” said Billy in amazement. “Yes, expensive. Every time he wiggles his tail that way he rings up a fare, and he’s rung up more than thirty-seven dollars’ worth already. I’ve counted ’em all.” Billy understood why the motorman and the conductor were so worried. The tail of the Ox had become entangled in the rope that led to the fare register, and every tinkle of the bell meant a fare recorded. At first he was shocked to think of this wasteful extravagance, but then he recollected that as the car was not on a regular run the fares couldn’t really be counted against the motorman and the conductor. They were not at all certain of this when he explained it to them. “We’re going back, ain’t we?” asked the conductor. “Oh, yes,” said Billy, “I’m sure we are.” “Well, when we run the car into the barn they’ll charge me with these fares,” said the conductor. “The car will have been away so long that they’ll be disgusted if it has not earned any money.” “I tell you,” said Billy; “when Nimbus comes back I’ll get him to enchant the register so it will only charge up the fares you have really collected. That will make it all right.” This appeased the motorman and the conductor, and in answer to Billy’s questions they explained how the Equine Ox got into the car. When they were left alone with him he had behaved very badly, rolling on the ground and laughing very heartily, which proved, as they had been told by Nimbus, that he was furiously angry. Then he began to sing, and at last he actually started to run away. But they prevented this by tying the trolley rope tightly to his horn and securing him to the car, and then, fearing that the rope might break, they hit upon a stratagem.