Of course, the approach of the Prince was the excuse for considerable agitation and fervour on the part of the man from Cook's.
He mounted the boulder and took off his cap to wave it frantically.
"It's the Prince!" he called out to Truxton King.

"Stand up! Hurray! Long live the Prince!" Tullis had already lifted his hand in salute to his countryman, and both had smiled the free, easy smile of men who know each other by instinct.
The man from Cook's came to grief.

He slipped from his perch on the rock and came floundering to the ground below, considerably crushed in dignity, but quite intact in other respects.
The spirited pony that the Prince was riding shied and reared in quick affright.

The boy dropped his crop and clung valiantly to the reins.

A guardsman was at the pony's head in an instant, and there was no possible chance for disaster.
Truxton King unbent his long frame, picked up the riding crop with a deliberateness that astonished the man from Cook's, strode out into the roadway and handed it up to the boy in the saddle.
"Thank you," said Prince Bobby.
"Don't mention it," said Truxton King with his most engaging smile.