<h2>XIX</h2><h3>THE WRONG TARGET</h3>
<p>"Give me another push like that one!" Johnnie Green shouted from the
swing.</p>
<p>Little did he dream that Snowball was rushing towards him from behind,
rushing with head lowered in his best butting style.</p>
<p>Of course when the boy Red slipped out of the way there was only one
thing that could happen. A moment after Johnnie shouted, Snowball struck
the swing seat.</p>
<p>Crash! Bang! Split! A terrible cry from Johnnie Green! And a second or
two later a dull thud!</p>
<p>The crash, bang and split came when Snowball's head met the swing seat.
The<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</SPAN></span> thud followed when Johnnie hit the ground.</p>
<p>Then all was quiet, except for a low moaning from the spot where Johnnie
Green lay.</p>
<p>Red had climbed spryly into a wagon which stood near-by. But he soon saw
that he needn't have gone to that trouble. For Snowball plainly had no
more butts left in him for the time being. He stood still in a dazed
fashion and stared dully about him. The heavy oaken swing seat had been
no soft mark to hit, sailing swiftly through the air with eighty pounds
of boy upon it.</p>
<p>Red had given one great shout. But now he too was very quiet. He jumped
out of the wagon and ran to Johnnie Green, and lifted Johnnie's head.</p>
<p>"Are you hurt, Johnnie?" he asked.</p>
<p>But it was almost a minute before<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</SPAN></span> Johnnie Green could speak. It was
almost as long as that before he could even breathe. He lay there
gasping, with his hands clutched across his stomach. His eyes rolled
about in the queerest way. If Red hadn't been frightened he would have
laughed in Johnnie's face.</p>
<p>At last Johnnie Green spoke.</p>
<p>"Wh-wh-what happened?" he asked in a halting whisper. "Did the ropes
break?"</p>
<p>"No!" Red answered. "The ropes held—though it's a wonder."</p>
<p>"Can't you tell me what happened?" Johnnie begged him. "If it wasn't the
ropes, what was it?"</p>
<p>"It was Snowball," said Red. "He butted you."</p>
<p>"I don't believe it," cried Johnnie. "He never butted me in his whole
life."</p>
<p>Johnnie Green was sitting up now. And<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</SPAN></span> since he didn't seem to be much
hurt the boy Red couldn't help grinning.</p>
<p>"Look at that swing seat!" he exclaimed, pointing to the splintered bit
of oak board near Johnnie. "You don't think—do you?—that I split that
thing with <i>my</i> head?"</p>
<p>And then Johnnie Green just had to believe him. And Johnnie began to get
angry, too.</p>
<p>"You must have seen Snowball coming," he growled. "Why didn't you warn
me?"</p>
<p>Red swallowed a few times as he tried to think of a good answer.</p>
<p>"Well," he replied finally, "I didn't <i>know</i> he was going to butt you,
did I? Didn't you just say yourself that he never <i>had</i> butted you?"</p>
<p>To all this Johnnie Green made no answer.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"If you ask me," Red went on more easily, "I should say you were lucky.
You were lucky to have that swing seat under you."</p>
<p>Johnnie Green rose slowly to his feet.</p>
<p>"There's something queer about this," he declared.</p>
<p>"That's so," Red agreed. "There is. You'd just asked for another hard
push. . . . And you got one—a harder one than I could have given
you. . . . So I don't see what you're complaining about."</p>
<p>And then he pretended that he didn't understand why Johnnie Green tried
to hit him.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</SPAN></span></p>
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