The old man let out an oath, and the curve of his whip-thong took the boy across the eyes and blinded him for a moment, but did not stop him.

The grey horse swerved, and half-wheeled, exposing his flank.

In another moment there would have been mischief; but the Whip, as he stood wiping his mouth, saw the danger and ran in.

He struck the visgy out of the child's grasp, set his foot on it, and with an open-handed cuff sent him floundering into a sand-heap.
"Nice boy, that!" said somebody, and the whole company laughed as they walked their horses slowly out of the hollow.
They passed before Taffy in a blur of tears; and the last rider to go was the small girl Honoria on her tall sorrel.

She moved up the broad shelving path, but reined up just within sight, turned her horse, and came slowly back to him.
"If I were you, I'd go home." She pointed in its direction.
Taffy brushed the back of his hand across his eyes.