And where, in the first glimpse, she had been about to warn the men not to shoot this peerless beauty, she now dropped the glass with the memory of the trampling of Manuel Cordova rushing back across her mind.
"It's Alcatraz!" she cried.

"It's that chestnut I told you of at Glosterville, Mr.Hervey.Oh, shoot and shoot to kill.

He's a murderer-- not a horse!" That injunction was not needed.

The rifle spoke from the shoulder of Shorty, but the stallion neither fell nor fled, and his challenging neigh rang faintly down to them.
"Mind the mares!" shrilled Marianne suddenly.

"They're starting for him!!" In fact, it seemed as though the report of the rifle had started the Coles horses towards their late companion They went forward at a high-stepping trot as horses will when their minds are not quite made up about their course.