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Updated: May 12, 2025
The two horses running neck and neck behind him were evidently blooded animals, and all three were a-lather from the pace set by their leader, all mud-bespattered to the point of being wholly disreputable, for a shower the previous night had left many a wide puddle in the road. The girl leading rode as only a southern girl, accustomed to a saddle all her life, can ride.
Presently Bolivar said: "If Shelby has ridden easy he's somewheres ahead on that selfsame road." "Oh, dad, if he only is!" "Well, by the god Billiken he is! Look yonder." A more dumbfounded man than Shelby it would have been hard to overtake. "Had he seen the cab?" "Certain. It was hiking along ahead. Passed him just a little time before, the horse a-lather. Wondered who the fools were."
Three uniformed men rode hard across the tawny plains. They rode abreast. Their horses were a-lather; their lean sides tuckered, but their gait remained unslackening. It was a gait they would keep as long as daylight lasted. Sergeant McBain's horse kept its nose just ahead of the others. It was as though the big, rawboned animal appreciated its rider's rank.
It was a beautiful creature, and as it chafed under the gentle, restraining hand of its rider its full veins stood out like ropes, and its shoulders and flanks were a-lather of sweat. They were traveling over a broken country a few miles up the valley. There was no road of any sort, only cattle tracks, which, amid the wild tangle of bush, made progress difficult and slow.
The heavens might roar their thunders, the lightnings might blind their staring eyes, the howling gale might strew their path with every obstruction, nothing could change them, nothing could stop them but death itself. So with horses a-lather they swept along. Their blood-stained spurs told their tale of invincible determination.
He knew no fear of this jade of a mare, and deep down in his heart there was a wild feeling of joy, a whole-hearted delight in the very madness of the race. And the animal herself, untamed, unchecked, frothing at her bit, her sides a-lather with foam, her barrel tuckered like that of a finely trained race-horse, rushed blindly on.
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