LET 'ER BUCK 



chairs, but for most of them a mouse has nothing on 

 that steer. 



But the two cowboys followed close, one bulldogging 

 him to starboard and the other throwing his stern 

 hard a-port, using his tail as a tiller, and guiding 

 the plunging, rampant beast out of the door, escort him 

 back from his rude intrusion into the boudoir of the 

 ladies. Thus ends a number not listed on the pro- 

 gram — The Bull in the China Doll Shop. 



A little bewildered, the angry brute now takes his 

 position in the middle of the ring. He paws the earth 

 and shakes his lowered head threateningly and utters 

 an occasional warning moan. In a semicircle the four 

 contestants radius him. There is one "boy" directly in 

 front. It was his move. The steer didn't, so he must. 



From a scant twenty-five feet away, steadily, stealth- 

 ily, never taking his eyes from those of the steer, he 

 moves forward step by step — and at each step willing 

 to give his horsehair braid, or even his new sombrero, 

 if that steer would move while there was still time to 

 dodge. The distance is shortening, he is now but ten 

 feet to the lowered head. 



"Look out ! You won't be able to get outside those 

 horns," cautioned Dell Blancett. 



A strange fascination draws him on. Five more 

 feet are cut down. Still the big brute paws the earth 

 but does not charge. 



"You've hypnotized him," comes from a seat in the 

 bleachers. 



A thought, as thoughts will, flits across the ap- 

 proacher's mind. Can he close in quickly enough to 

 seize the steer's horns, and bulldog him before the 

 charge and beat the steer to it ? But something quick- 

 er than mere visual perception even, that telepathic 



114 



