And both lassoes were held taut by the black horse.

A torn and soiled rider's scarf hung limp round the red horse's nose, kept from falling off by the hackamore.
"A wild horse, a stallion, being broken!" exclaimed Lucy, instantly grasping the situation.

"Oh! where's the rider ?" She gazed around, ran to and fro, glanced down the little slope, and beyond, but she did not see anything resembling the form of a man.

Then she ran back.
Lucy took another quick look at the red stallion.

She did not believe either his legs or back were hurt.