He called to her before the pony had taken a dozen steps:
"Your handkerchief, señorita!"
She turned in the saddle and waited for him to bring it. He did so, and she noticed that he limped badly.
"You have hurt yourself," she said quickly.
"I must have jammed my knee against a rock," he explained. "Nothing serious."
"But it pains?"
"Just enough to let me know it's there."
Frowning, she watched him.
"Is it a bruise or a sprain?"
"A wrench, I think. It will be all right if I favor it"