"We're not fit to fight." He thrust his sound arm through Mark's, and they ran on pretty swiftly for a hundred yards or so, with the enemy in full pursuit, and then Mark stopped suddenly.
"Can't go--any farther," he said.

"My leg's awful." Ralph looked round, to find that the men had given up the pursuit, and were going back.
"Can we catch your pony ?" he said.
"I think so.

He's grazing yonder." "Would he let me catch him ?" "No," said Mark.

"He'd be off directly.

There, I think I can hobble on now for a bit.