He did not quite like the words--he thought he detected just a touch of irony; but she flashed him a smile from her lash-shaded eyes, and the suspicion vanished. "He doesn't want any one poaching on his pasture," he said. The bull suddenly put down its head, pawed the earth, and bellowed. "I think we would better hurry," she remarked, quickening her step. "It's only a protest!" he laughed. "He is like the average man--he makes plenty of fuss and racket but doesn't do anything that _will really_ correct the trouble. And the trouble continues--just as we are doing." Another bellow, and fiercer, came from the bull--and he began to trot slowly toward them. "He's coming!" exclaimed Stephanie, beginning to run. "Make for the nearest fence!" counselled Porshinger, and stopped. The bull kept straight on until he was within a few feet of Porshinger--then he paused, pawed the earth again, and let out another bellow. Stephanie, glancing over her shoulder, saw the situation and halted. "Come on, Mr. Porshinger!" she called. "Get over the fence!" he answered sharply, not taking his eyes off the angry beast. "I shall get to the fence when you----" The rest was drowned in the voice of the bull. He let out a terrific roar and charged straight at the man before him. Stephanie gave a shriek of terror. Porshinger sprang swiftly aside--and the bull tossed the air instead of the man. When his head came up he saw only Stephanie in front of him, and bellowing again he bore down upon her at full speed. "Run! Run!" cried Porshinger, as he raced across the field in pursuit. Stephanie stood as if petrified. "_Run!_" yelled Porshinger again. "_For the love of God, run!_" With the enraged brute almost upon her, she came suddenly to life. Sweeping up her narrow skirts above her knees, she turned and fled. She could hear the thundering of the hoofs behind her, and drawing closer and closer, while the fence seemed far, far away. She heard Porshinger's cries, and knew that he was trying to divert the bull and to help her in the only way he could. The fence was nearer now--and so were the hoof-beats behind her. She dared not glance back--and yet the temptation was well-nigh irresistible. How close was the bull! How close was the bull!--Would she reach the fence in time?--Would she reach the fence in time?-- It was well for Stephanie that she was fond of athletics and sports and was still given to taking regular exercise. And she ran as she had never run, her breath coming in gasps--corsets are not made for such strenuosity--until the blood seemed to congest in her head and her heart, and black spots floated before her eyes. There was a last frightful moment--the hoof-beats were pounding at her heels--the fence was just ahead, a stout rail fence.--Would she reach it?--could she spring over it if she did reach it?