Ump's bed had not been slept in, and there was about him the warm smell of a horse.
We followed him to the stable, Ump galloping like a great rabbit.
I had no idea of what Ump was up to, but I should learn no earlier by a volley of questions.
The idea of resting the horse was so delicious that Ump and Jud laughed too.
But I talked with Ump about it, and in the light of these after events it was tolerably clear.
For a moment, I was undecided, but Ump pushed through and I followed him into the room.
Ump was as sensitive as any cripple, and he was afraid of no man.
Peppers gulped a swallow, then he lowered his pitcher and looked at Ump.
There seemed to be something in Ump's face that lashed the drunkard to a fury.
Ump shook the reins of his bridle and went by me in a gallop.