“Surely––surely,” the chubby man agreed. “Nothing like getting away with the bell. And––er––there’s one other thing. Of course if it’s a little private affair, I’ll bow myself gracefully out, but I do confess to a lot of curiosity concerning that small souvenir.” His eyes traveled to the red welt across the boy’s chin. “May I inquire just how it happened?”
Denny failed to understand him at first; then his finger lifted and touched the wound interrogatively.
“This?” he inquired.
The man in brown nodded.
“Last night,” the boy explained, “I––I kind of forgot myself and walked in on the horses in the dark, without speaking to them. I’d forgot to feed before I went to the village. One of them’s young yet––and nervous––and–––”
The other scowled comprehendingly.
“And so, just for that, they both went hungry till you came to in the morning and found yourself stretched out on the floor, eh?”
Again Young Denny puzzled a moment over the words. He shook his head negatively.
“No-o-o,” he contradicted slowly. “No, it wasn’t as bad as that. Knocked me across the floor and into the wall and made me pretty dizzy and faint for a little while. But I managed to feed them. I––I’d worked them pretty hard in the timber last week.”