Still there was no sight of her cowpunchers and this was a matter of small wonder, for a ten minute start had sent them far away ahead of her.
It would never do to push ahead with a blind energy.

Already the bay was beginning to feel the run, and Marianne reluctantly drew down to the long lope which is the favorite gait of the cowpony.

At this pace she rocked on over mile after mile of desert through the moonhaze, but never a token of the cowpunchers came on her.

Twice she was on the verge of turning back; twice she shook her head and urged the mare on again.

Hour upon hour had slipped by her.