“Watch.”
“Come out, and I’ll get some of these chaps to look.”
Mr Boxall came out of the ditch with his handkerchief held to the left side of his forehead.
“Why, your watch and chain are on you!” cried the General.
“So they are,” said Mr Boxall, pulling the watch out with his left hand, and putting it back. “I’m off to the house—I want to wash.”
“Sure you’re not hurt?”
“Not in the least, only my forehead scratched.”
“What’s up?” cried Dicky Fanshawe, who had just arrived.
“Nothing,” replied his uncle. “Fellow hit him by mistake—no bones broken. Will you take the governess-cart back to the house, Boxall?”
“No thanks—I’ll walk.”