"Turn around.

Get out of here!" I saved him the trouble by completing the turn.

When I dropped the bridle the horse's head was pointing toward the Lower Road.
"Now get out of here!" I repeated.

"Go back where you come from." "But--but, Ros," protested Zeb, "I don't want to go back.

I'm goin' to the shore." "Then you'll have to go some other way.