With a sneer, the man spread his legs and, a third time, confronted them.

Once more, Katie reared, and whinnied in fear. For a moment, boy and mount hung in midair. Stevie twisted and, frantically, commanded the mare to leap straight ahead. But the stranger was nimbler still. With a bold arm, he dared once more to obstruct them. Katie reared a third time, then, trembling, descended.

The stranger leered. Seizing the bridle, he tugged with all his might and forced Katie to her knees. It was absurd. Stevie could feel himself toppling. He saw the ground coming up -- and the stranger's head. With incredible ferocity, he brought his fists together and struck. The blow encountered silky hair and hard bone. The man uttered a weird cry, spun about, and collapsed in the sand.

Katie scrambled to her feet, Stevie agilely retaining his seat. Again Katie reared, and now, wickedly, he compelled her to bring her hooves down again and again upon the sprawled figure of the stranger. He could feel his own feet, iron-shod, striking repeatedly until the body was limp. He gloated, and his lips slavered. He heard himself chortling.

They rode around and around to trample the figure into the sand. Only the top of the head, with a spot bare and white as a clamshell, remained visible. Stevie was shouting triumphantly.

A train hooted. Instantly, he chilled. They were pursuing him. He was frightened; his fists clutched so tightly that his knuckles hurt. Then Katie stumbled, and again he was falling, falling!