On Time by Oliver Optic — Read

Tom Walton always had a pleasant way of doing an unpleasant thing. I suppose he thought Tommy Toppleton intended to ride over me, or at least intimidate me by the movements of his high-spirited little charger, and, as a friend, he considered it his duty to do something in my defense. This was the reason why he asked if he should not hold the little major's horse.

I had hardly seen Tommy since he had broken his leg; but I had no difficulty in believing that he hated me. He was haughty, tyrannical, and overbearing, even to a greater degree, when incensed, than my new-made friend Waddie Wimpleton. He seemed to think I had no business to live, and move, and have my being, after I had ceased to be serviceable to him. He wanted to crush me, and the demonstration of his pony was only suggestive of what the rider really desired to do.