Certainly it seemed that was what the Mexican was doing.
"There's a lady," the colonel was shouting.

"Go it, girl.

Go it, beauty.
Lady Mary! Lady Mary!" Marianne raised her field glasses and studied the rush of horses through the fog of dust.
"It's just as I thought," she cried, without lowering the glasses.

"The scoundrel is pulling Alcatraz! He rides as if he were afraid of something--afraid that the horse might break away.

Look, Mr.Corson." "I dunno," said Corson.