He watched intently for a moment, and then he saw that the woman did not move, but lay still beside the fallen horse.
He dug his heels into the broncho's side, and although it had done its day's work, it reached out upon the trail as though fresh from the corral.

It bucked malevolently as it went, but it went.
It was apparent that no one else had seen the accident.

Orlando had been at a point of vantage on a lonely rise about eighty feet above the level of the prairie.

Where horse and rider lay was a good two miles, but within seven minutes he had reached the spot.
Flinging the bridle over the broncho's neck, he dismounted.

As he did so, a cry broke from him.