It spun him over and over in the dust, yet as the impetus of the chestnut carried him far past, Cordova struggled to his feet and attempted to flee again.

Alas, it was only a step! His left leg crumpled under him.
He toppled sideways, still wriggling and twisting onwards through the dirt--and then Alcatraz struck him again.
This time is was no blind rush.

Back and forth, up and down, he crossed and recrossed, wheeled and reared and stamped, until his one white stocking was crimsoned and spurts of red flew out and turned black in the dust.
The horror which had choked her relaxed and Marianne shrieked again.

It was that second cry which saved a faint spark of life for Cordova for at the sound the stallion leaped sidewise from the body of his victim, lifted his head towards the half fainting girl in the window, and trumpeted a great neigh of defiance.

Still neighing he swerved away into a gallop, cleared the fence a second time, and fled from view..