She leaned forward under the flying steel, which cut through her riding-skirt, through the edge of the saddle, through the saddle cloth, and even slightly into the horse itself.

Her right hand, still raised, came down, the thin whip whishing through the air.

She saw the white, cooked mark of the weal clear across the sullen, handsome face, and still what was practically in the same instant she saw the man with the puckered face, overridden, go down before her, and she heard his snarling and grimacing chatter-for all the world like an angry monkey.

Then she was free and away, heading the horse at top speed for the house.
Out of her sea-training she was able to appreciate Sheldon's executiveness when she burst in on him with her news.

Springing from the steamer-chair in which he had been lounging while waiting for breakfast, he clapped his hands for the house-boys; and, while listening to her, he was buckling on his cartridge-belt and running the mechanism of his automatic pistol.
"Ornfiri," he snapped out his orders, "you fella ring big fella bell strong fella plenty.