Now and then they threw up their heads and snorted, and swerved violently when a gopher ran across the trail or a prairie-hen got up.

The flies seemed to have gone, but the mosquitoes were out in clouds, and the hand with which he slapped his face and neck was soon smeared with small red stains.

He could not hold the whip; but it was not needed, because the team rather required to be checked than urged.
When the trail permitted he let them go, and swung, lost in gloomy thoughts, with the jolting of the rig.

The damaging part of Wilkinson's statement was false, but since part was true the tale would spread and some would believe the worst.

It was impossible to doubt Helen, but he was angry with her.