Binjie had to come out with another horse and run me back into the yard.

He's a pretty clever colt, too.

The timber is tremendous thick in that paddick, and he never hit me against anything.

Binjie reckons any other colt'd have killed me.

Come on up to the house, or he'll have my saddle smashed before I get him." As they hurried home, Miss Grant had a good look at the stranger--a pleasant, brown-skinned brown-handed youth, with the down of a black moustache growing on his upper lip.