Come on." It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley.
Had he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity?
Always there was a little rift in the lute.

Had his tone and look meant that Flo might catch him if Carley could not?
Absurd as the idea was, it spurred her to recklessness.

Her mustang did not need any more than to know she wanted him to run.

The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green foliage and overspread by pines.

In a moment she was racing at a speed she had never before half attained on a horse.