So she gripped him tightly with her strong young knees and let him run.

And after the first shock of dismay, she thrilled to the swift flight, with a guilty exultation in what she had done.
Jake ran a couple of miles before he showed any symptom of slowing.

After that he straightened out in a long, easy lope that was a sheer delight to Mary V, though she knew it must not be permitted for very long, because Jake had a good many miles to cover before daylight.

She brought him down gradually to a swinging, "running walk" that would have kept any ordinary saddle horse trotting to match for speed, and although he still mouthed the strange bit pettishly, he carried Mary V over the trail with a kingly graciousness that instilled a deep respect into that arrogant young lady.
Tango, I think, would have been amazed to see how Mary V refrained from bullying her mount that night.

There was no mane-pulling, no little, nipping pinches of the neck to imitate the bite of a fly, no scolding--nothing that Tango had come to take for granted when Mary V bestrode him.
It was only a little after one o'clock when Mary V, holding Jake down to a walk, nervously passed the empty corral at Sinkhole Camp.