The moment he was in the saddle she tossed her head eagerly, ready to be off.
He looked across the street to the veranda of the hotel, as he passed through the gate of the corral.

The men were standing in a long and awe-stricken line, their eyes wide, their mouths agape.

Whoever Ronicky Doone might be, he was certainly a man who had won the respect of this town.

The men on the veranda looked at Bill Gregg as though he were already a ghost.

He waved his hand defiantly at them and the mare, at a word from him, sprang into a long-striding gallop that whirled them rapidly down the street and out of the village.
The bay mare carried him with amazing speed over the ground.