“What—what happened?” she faltered.
“Your horse ran away,” Joe explained, with a smile. “He’s over there now; not hurt, fortunately.”
“Oh, I remember now! Something frightened Prince and he bolted. He never did it before. Oh, I was so frightened. I tried—tried to stop him, but could not. The rein broke.”
The girl sat up now, Joe’s arm about her, supporting her, for she was much in need of assistance, being weak and trembling.
“Then he bolted into a field,” she resumed, “and he was headed for a cliff. Oh, how I tried to stop him! But he wouldn’t. Then—then something—something happened!”
She looked wonderingly at Joe.
“Yes, I’m afraid I happened it,” he said with a smile. “I saw that your horse might go over the cliff, so I threw a stone, and hit him on the head. It stunned him, he fell, and threw you out.”
“I remember up to that point,” she said with a faint smile. “I saw Prince go down, and I thought we were going over the cliff. Oh, what an escape!”
“And yet not altogether an escape,” remarked Joe. “Your arm seems hurt.”
She glanced down in some surprise at her right wrist, as though noticing it for the first time. Then, as she moved it ever so slightly, a cry of pain escaped her lips.