his enemy's arm, till they came up to
where the cob was grazing.

It let them come close up before raising its head, and then, after
contemplating them for a bit, twitching his ears, as Mark uttered a
series of blandishments, and ended by tossing its head, and spinning
round, as upon a pivot, to trot off. It failed in this, however, for
Ralph thrust his foot through the trailing rein, and brought the animal
up short.

"Well done!" cried Mark. "There, jump on, and then pull me across like
a sack."

"Nonsense! Get on yourself. I'll help you."

"I shan't, it's my pony. You're wounded, so get on."

"After you," said Ralph, and, after a little more bandying of words,
Mark felt so sick with pain that he had either to lie down on the earth
or mount.

He did the latter, after several groans, for his leg was very stiff and
painful.

"There's a coward for you," he said. "Now jump up behind."

"There is no need," said Ralph. "I can walk."

"That's not fair."

"Never mind.--Get on with you."

This last to the pony, who walked quietly along with his burden in the
pleasant evening light.

For some minutes now neither of the lads spoke, being too much engrossed
by pain and the strangeness of their position.

"I say," said Mark at last, "you'd better come up to the Tor, and drop
me, and I'll lend you the pony to carry your wounded arm home."

"No," said Ralph quietly. "I shall come a bit farther, and then strike
off. You can get safe home now."

"Yes, I suppose so; but you ought to have the pony, or one of our men,
to see you safe."

"He'd finish me off," said Ralph grimly, and Mark was silent.

"I say," he said at last; "I shan't say we fought."

"Why?" asked Ralph, in surprise.

"Because it's like bragging so, to talk of two fights. I shall say the
robbers attacked us, and we beat them off; then they'll get the credit
of our wounds."

"But it will not be true."

"I shan't say they wounded us," replied Mark. "If my father likes to
think they did it, I shall let him."

"I shan't," said Ralph quietly. "I shall tell my father everything."

"Well, I suppose it will be best," said Mark. "But, I say, that fight
doesn't count, you know. We must begin again where we can't be
interrupted."

"When your leg's better."

"Yes, and your arm's all right."

"Of course."

"Queer thing being such enemies, Darley, isn't it?"

"Very," said Ralph quietly.

"But I suppose it comes natural, though, to o