Mechanically I gave him the bridle. He leaped on to Electric � the mare, chill with standing, reared on her haunches, and leaped ten feet away � but my father soon subdued her; he drove the spurs into her sides, and gave her a blow on the neck with his fist� . ‘Ah, I’ve no whip,’ he muttered.

I remembered the swish and fall of the whip, heard so short a time before, and shuddered.

‘Where did you put it?’ I asked my father, after a brief pause.

My father made no answer, and galloped on ahead. I overtook him. I felt that I must see his face.

‘Were you bored waiting for me?’ he muttered through his teeth.

‘A little. Where did you drop your whip?’