The next time he thrust himself on my consciousness was when he was lugging young Brown out of reach of the convulsive hoofs.

In the meanwhile Marigold, single-handed, had rushed into the jaws of death and stopped the horse.
But as it was a matter of seconds, I had no reason for believing that, but for adventitious relative positions on the road, Boyce would not have done the same....

And yet out of the corner of my eye I got an instantaneous photograph of him standing bolt upright between the two cars, while the abominable bay brute, with distended red nostrils and wild eyes, was thundering down on us.
On the other hand, the swift pleasure in the boy's eyes when he realised that he was in the presence of the popular hero, proved him free of doubts such as mine.

And when Marigold, having put the car in hospital, came to make his report, and lingered in order to discuss the whole affair, he said, in wooden deprecation of my eulogy: "If Major Boyce hadn't jumped in, sir, young Mr.Brown's head would have been kicked into pumpkin-squash." Well, I have known from long experience that there are no more untrustworthy witnesses than a man's own eyes; especially in the lightning dramas of life.
I was kept awake all night, and towards the dawn I came into thorough agreement with Sir Anthony and I heartily damned the fellow.
What had I to do with him that he should rob me of my sleep?
.