Now he trotted ahead, and the stallion broke into a gallop behind.
"My God," whispered Sliver to Gus, "don't spoil that hoss when you daub the rope on him! Look at that action; like runnin' water!" They came more rapidly.

As if the rider knew that a point of danger was there to be passed, he spoke to his mount, and Satan lengthened into a racing gait that blew the brim of the rider's hat straight up.

On they came.

The wolf-dog darted past.

Then as the horse swept by, Gus Reeve rose from behind his bush and the rope darted snakelike from his hand.
The forefeet of Satan landed in the noose, and the next instant the back-flung weight of Gus tightened the rope, and Satan shot over upon his side, flinging the master clear of the saddle.
It sent him rolling over and over in the dust, and Sliver Waldron was on his feet with both guns in action, sending bullet after bullet towards the tumbling body.