The horse came to a halt.
Mr.Jope was out in a moment.

He glanced up and down the road.
"Tumble out, youngster! There's no one in sight." "Is--is he hurt ?" "Blest if _I_ know." He stooped over the prostrate body.

"Hurt ?" he asked, and after a moment reported, "No, I reckon not: talkin' in his sleep, more like--for the only word I can make out is 'Jezebel.' That don't help us much, do it ?" He scanned the road again.
"There's only one thing to do.

I can't drive ye: I never steered yet with the tiller lines in front--it al'ays seemed to me un-Christian.
We must take to the fields.

I used to know these parts, and by the bearings we can't be half a mile above the ferry.