He even thought of one rider who had worn off his teeth in this terrible hold to break or control desperate horses.

Wrangle had indeed gone mad.

The marvel was what guided him.

Was it the half-brute, the more than half-horse instinct of Jerry Card?
Whatever the mystery, it was true.

And in a few more rods Jerry would have the sorrel turning into the trail leading down into the canyon.
"No--Jerry!" whispered Venters, stepping forward and throwing up the rifle.