“No apples ripe around here,” said Snap, as he and his chum walked up the river bank, to a point opposite where they had left Giant and Whopper.

“Let us go over to the strawberry patch,” suggested Shep.  “We may find some strawberries worth eating.”

As nobody was in sight, the proposition was readily accepted, and the boys picked their way carefully along, for they had no desire to hurt their bare feet.  Reaching the patch, they began a hunt and soon discovered a corner where the berries were thick and sweet.

“Say, this is prime!” observed the doctor’s son, smacking his lips.  “This would suit Giant and Whopper to a T!”

“Wonder if we can carry any over to them, Shep?”

“I don’t see why not.  A little water won’t hurt them.  In fact they ought to be washed, they are that full of sand.”

“Who owns this patch?”

“Old Tom Ashenbury.”

“Well, we had better keep out of his sight, or he’ll be after us with his gun.  Don’t you remember how he chased us once, when we were walking through his peach orchard?”

“Indeed I do.  But we are doing little harm here.  In a few days all these berries will be rotten.  I guess he has given up picking them.”

In moving around the boys had found a couple of old berry baskets, and these they now proceeded to fill.  The task was about half completed when Snap suddenly straightened up.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What?” demanded his chum.

“I thought I heard a cry from across the river.”

Both listened, but nothing came to their ears.

“You must have been mistaken,” said the doctor’s son, and resumed his work of picking strawberries.

“No use of picking more,” said Snap, a few minutes later.  “We’ll be lucky to get over with these.  Perhaps we’ll drop half of them, trying to swim.”

“Hi, look there!” shouted his companion, and pointed across the field in the direction of the river.

A flock of sheep had suddenly appeared, some fifteen or twenty in number.  At the head was a large ram, who gazed in wonder at the two boys in their bathing outfits.

“Say, that ram means business!” ejaculated Snap, an instant later.  “We had better clear out of here.”

“Come on, I’m willing,” responded the doctor’s son, and started for the stream, carrying the basket of strawberries in one hand.

“Let us go up the stream,” went on Snap.  “No use of getting too close to him.  I don’t like his looks.”

Both boys had good cause to feel alarmed, for the ram was coming toward them on a trot.  Once or twice he stopped and pawed the ground, but then he came on, and they could see he meant to attack them.

“He’s coming for us!”

“Can we reach the river!”

“We must reach it!”

Then the two boys broke into a run, giving no further heed to the fact that the ground was uneven and that their feet were bare.  They had heard stories of vicious rams many times, and knew that only the year before a girl had been almost mauled to death by such an animal.