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“Please did the lot hurt Joner when it fell?” queried a sober-minded seeker of truth. At this moment a wild whoop was heard, and through the open door Moses could be seen dashing out of the corral gate on his cow-pony. Billy didn’t wait. Like all generous natures that are slow to anger, the passion once aroused possessed him to madness. He raced down the turnpike, his face aflame. Ahead he could see the Dorrs’ horse and buggy standing near the fence. Jimmy was on the ground beside the Twins; and Billy saw the whip descend more than once before he arrived. Had he known it the blows were make-believe, for moral effect alone. Jimmy was giving a lesson that his Southern breeding made him think necessary, if painful. And if the girls don’t love me now.