She looked neither back nor at the running riders, and bent forward over Black Star's neck and studied the ground ahead.
It struck Venters, presently, after he had glanced up from time to time, that Bess was drawing away from him as he had expected.

He had, however, only thought of the light weight Black Star was carrying and of his superior speed; he saw now that the black was being ridden as never before, except when Jerry Card lost the race to Wrangle.

How easily, gracefully, naturally, Bess sat her saddle! She could ride! Suddenly Venters remembered she had said she could ride.

But he had not dreamed she was capable of such superb horsemanship.

Then all at once, flashing over him, thrilling him, came the recollection that Bess was Oldring's Masked Rider.
He forgot Tull--the running riders--the race.