“‘What in hell?’ he yelled.
“‘That’s what I want to know,’ I answered.
“‘Can’t you see I’m in a hurry, damn you?’ he shouted angrily.
“‘That’s exactly what I do see,’ I replied. ‘But Haig never whips those horses.’
“‘That’s none of your business, and Haig ain’t carin’ much now,’ he fired back at me. ‘Get out o’ my way, or I’ll––’
“‘Now just keep cool!’ I told him. ‘What’s the trouble?’
“Craven snorted, but he told me, as the quickest way out of it. Haig had been hurt––trying to ride Sunnysides. He’s––”
“Hurt? How?” asked Marion; and Smythe was relieved to detect a new steadiness in her voice. She had passed the danger point.
“The horse went over backwards, pinning him to the ground, with the saddle horn in his stomach. Craven’s gone for the doctor.”
She gave him one long, searching look, as if to pluck 149 out anything he might have been hiding from her. Then she turned swiftly toward the automobile.