That devil is playing with us." As a result, they checked their mounts to merely a fast gallup, and Barry, looking back, laughed softly with understanding.

Far different the laborious pounding of the posse and the light stretch of Satan beneath him.

He leaned a little until he could catch the sound of the breathing, big, steady draughts with comfortable intervals between.
He could run like that all day, it seemed, and Whistling Dan ran his fingers luxuriously down the shining neck.

Instantly the head tossed up, and a short whinney whipped back to him like a question.

Just before them the Morgan Hills jutted up, like stiff mud chopped by the tread of giants.