Holley, you used to have eyes better 'n me.

Use them, will you ?" A gray-haired, hawk-eyed rider, lean and worn, approached with clinking spurs.
"Down in there," said Bostil, pointing.
"Thet's a bunch of hosses," replied Holley.
"Wild hosses ?" "I take 'em so, seein' how they throw thet dust." "Huh! I don't like it.

Lucy oughtn't be ridin' round alone." "Wal, boss, who could catch her up on Buckles?
Lucy can ride.

An' there's the King an' Sarch right under your nose--the only hosses on the sage thet could outrun Buckles." Farlane knew how to mollify his master and long habit had made him proficient.

Bostil's eyes flashed.