"He hadn't quite the knack of it," the showman was explaining. "Stirrup a morsel too short, maybe. All the strength, lady, and the ginger, by God, but not the knack, you understand. And we offered him a quieter little animal too. But what I say is, a bargain's a bargain, that's what I say. A bit dazed-like, sir, eh? My, you did come a cropper."
"Sst! are you hurt?" I whispered.
The head shook; his moon-washed face smiled at me.
"Come now, come now," I implored him, tugging at his arm, "before the crowd...."
He recoiled as if my touch had scalded him.
"We go——" I turned to the showman.
Hands thrust under his leathern belt, he looked fixedly at me, and then at the woman. Her eyes glittered glassily back at him.
"That's it. The young lady knows best. He's twisted his shoulder, lady; wrenched it; more weight than size, as you might say. She'll know where to make her friend comfortable. Trust the ladies. Never you be afraid of that. Now, then, Mary, fetch up the gentleman's cart."
The woman, with one wolfish glance into his face, obeyed.