It was a clean fall.

He twisted over in the air as he fell and landed in deep dust.

The black stallion had reached his master and now he turned, in that same catlike manner, and watched with pricking ears as Strann dragged himself up from the dust.
There was no shout of laughter--no cheer for that fall, and without a smile they watched Strann returning.

Big O'Brien had seen from his open door and now he laid a hand on the shoulder of one of the men and whispered at his ear: "There's going to be trouble; bad trouble, Billy.
Go for Fatty Matthews--he's a deputy marshal now--and get him here as quick as you can.

Run!" The other spared time for a last glance at Strann and then hurried down the street.
Now, a man who can lose and smile is generally considered the most graceful of failures, but the smile of Jerry Strann as he walked slowly back worried his followers.
"We all hit dust sometime," he philosophized.