rs. Sir
Timothy, straight as a dart, without overcoat or any covering to his
thin evening clothes, looked like a stripling in front of him.

"I'm whippin' 'er, if yer want to know," was the carter's reply. "I've
got to get up the 'ill, 'aven't I? Garn and mind yer own business!"

"This is my business," Sir Timothy declared, laying his hand upon the
neck of the horse. "I am an official of the Society for the Prevention
of Cruelty to Animals. You are laying yourself open to a fine for your
treatment of this poor brute."

"I'll lay myself open for a fine for the treatment of something else, if
you don't quid 'old of my 'oss," the carter retorted, throwing his whip
back into the waggon and coming a step nearer. "D'yer 'ear? I don't
want any swells interferin' with my business. You 'op it. Is that strite
enough? 'Op it, quick!"

Sir Timothy's anger seemed to have abated. There was even the beginning
of a smile upon his lips. All the time his hand caressed the neck of the
horse. Francis noticed with amazement that the poor brute had raised his
head and seemed to be making some faint effort at reciprocation.

"My good man," Sir Timothy said, "you seem to be one of those brutal
persons unfit to be trusted with an animal. However--"

The carter had heard quite enough. Sir Timothy's tone seemed to madden
him. He clenched his fist and rushed in.

"You take that for interferin', you big toff!" he shouted.

The result of the man's effort at pugilism was almost ridiculous. His
arms appeared to go round like windmills beating the air. It really
seemed as though he had rushed upon the point of Sir Timothy's knuckles,
which had suddenly shot out like the piston of an engine. The carter lay
on his back for a moment. Then he staggered viciously to his feet.

"Don't," Sir Timothy begged, as he saw signs of another attack. "I don't
want to hurt you. I have been amateur champion of two countries. Not
quite fair, is it?"

"Wot d'yer want to come interferin' with a chap's business for?" the man
growled, dabbing his cheek with a filthy handkerchief but keeping at a
respectful distance.

"It happens to be my business also," Sir Timothy replied, "to interfere
whenever I see animals ill-treated. Now I don't want to be unreasonable.
That animal has done all the work it ought to do in this world. How much
is she worth to you?"

Through the man's beer-clogged brain a gleam of cunning began to find
its way. He looked at the Rolls-Royce,