I stopped outside.

Jim had his horse by the mane, and was patting his neck as mine came out, when three police troopers rose up from behind the bushes, and covering us with their rifles called out, 'Stand, in the Queen's name!' Jim made one spring on to his horse's back, drove his heels into his flank, and was out through the gate and half-way down the hill before you could wink.
Just as Jim cleared the gate a tall man rose up close behind me and took a cool pot at him with a revolver.

I saw Jim's hat fly off, and another bullet grazed his horse's hip.

I saw the hair fly, and the horse make a plunge that would have unseated most men with no saddle between their legs.

But Jim sat close and steady and only threw up his arm and gave a shout as the old horse tore down the hill a few miles an hour faster.
'D--n those cartridges,' said the tall trooper; 'they always put too much powder in them for close shooting.