"You didn't know it was me, of course," sneered the other, shaking with anger.
"I did not," replied Silver, calm and cold as Joses was hot.
"Then I don't believe you," cried the tout.
Silver looked down at him.
"I've said I'm sorry. I've no more to say," he remarked quietly.
"Haven't you?" cried the fat man. "I have, though."
He made a snatch at Banjo's rein.
The gray reared, backed away into the ditch, collapsed there on his quarters, and recovered himself with the grunt and flounder of a hippopotamus emerging from a river.
A little crowd was collecting swiftly, drawn by the hopes of a row.
Then there came the clatter of a horse's feet. Boy was coming back to the group at a gallop.