Now's the time for a spurt, and by God, we'll run him down.

I'm startin!" He made his word good with an Indian yell and a wave of his hat that sent his buckskin leaping straight into the air, to land with stiff legs, "swallowing its head," but then it straightened out in earnest.
That buckskin had a name from Bly Falls to Caswell City speed and courage, and it lived up to the record in the time of need.

Close behind it came Lew and Garry ponies scarcely slower than the buckskin, and they closed rapidly on Satan.

The plan of Retherton was plain: now that the black was running on its nerve a spurt might bring them within striking distance and if they could check the flight for an instant by opening advance guard fire, they might drive the fugitive into a corner by the river and hold him there until the main body the posse came up.

The three of them running alone the lead could do five yards for every four of the slow horses, and the effect showed at once.
Going up a slope the trot of the stallion maintained or even increased his lead, but when they reached the easier ground beyond they drew rapidly upon him.