I observed tartly that I considered it nothing to boast of, but Bill did not agree with me.
"It doesn't hurt a neighborhood none," he observed. "Adds romance, as you might say."
He went on and, happening to slide on a piece of shale at that moment, I sat down unexpectedly and the horse put its foot on me.
I felt embittered and helpless, but the others kept on.
"Very well," I said, "go on. Don't mind me. If this creature wants to sit in my lap, well and good. I expect it's tired."
But as they went on callously, I was obliged to shove the creature off and to hobble on. Bill was still babbling about holdups, and Aggie was saying that he was sunstruck, but of course it did not matter.
We made very slow progress, owing to taking frequent rests, and late in the afternoon we were overtaken by Mr. Bell, on foot and carrying a pack. He would have passed on without stopping, but Aggie hailed him.
"Not going to hike, are you?" she said pleasantly. Aggie is fond of picking up the vernacular of a region.
"No," he said in a surly tone quite unlike his former urbane manner, "I'm merely taking this pack out for a walk."
But he stopped and mopped his face.