After that night's work he was known to be the fastest in that part of the country.
Mrs.Steele gave the half-awakened Whitey a "foot up" upon the pony, untied the hackamore, and he was gone.

Fortunately for Whitey the horse was turned in the right direction.

That pony had been wanting to run ever since he was born.

This was the first time he ever had had a chance, and he sure took advantage of it.
Back toward the men's quarters the night was fractured by sounds like those of a healthy young riot.

These meant nothing to Whitey, nor did the pung! pung! of bullets, when he started, or rather when the colt started.