“And which did they do?” urged Robert after a thrilling pause.
“They marched straight for their stable.”
The encounter was now to take place. Robert Day braced himself by means of the wagon-tongue.
“Then what did you do?”
“I rises up,” Zene recounted in a cautious whisper, “draws back the boot, and throws with all my might.”
“Not at the woman?” urged Bobaday.
“I wanted to break her first,” apologized Zene. “She was worse than the man. But I missed her and hit him.”
Robert was glad Zene aimed as he did.
“Then the man jumps and yells, and the woman jumps and yells, and the old gray he rears up and breaks loose. He run right past the straw pile, and before you could say Jack Robinson, I had him by the hitch-strap—it was draggin'—and hoppin' against the straw, I jumped on him.”
“Jack Robinson,” Zene's hearer tried half-audibly. “Then what? Did the man and woman run?”