Flailed his way along the line.
"Your ear's a-bleedin' again," said one.
"Never mind me hear," he answered. "I give them socks."
But another man eventually advised him to go back to the steward and have his ear re-dressed. The stallions were not improved by this treatment. It was impossible now to "stay with" any one of them, hanging on to its upper lip and stroking the forehead, whether it would or not, and crooning: "Whoa there! Steady boy!" They raised their heads high, and launched downwards. Later on, Cockney, back again from the doctoring, put his hand to his head and said: "I tell you this 'urts, it does!" suddenly rose and went out again; and once more some men guessed what manner of errand he went upon, but said nothing. William saw him at his flailing this time.
"What are you doing?" he said, charging upon him. "I'd give you the same if you hadn't got enough already."
"Wot for?" asked Cockney, and as he thrust forward his face his eyes danced and blazed feverishly, like the eyes of one at bay, under the white bandage.
"For hitting them," replied William.
"Bit off my hear, didn't they?" said Cockney.
"You leave them alone," William advised.
"You keep 'em from bitin' off people's 'eads, then. They're your stallions, ain't they?"