"I'll holler when you're outa sight.

You can turn around and come back then; the scene ends where your hat-crowns bob outa sight.
And listen! You're liable to lose your cattle if you don't spur up a little, so try and get a little speed into them cayuses of yours!" Obediently Andy's quirt rose and descended on the flank of his horse.

It started, broke into a shuffling trot, and slowed again to a walk.

There was no speed to be gotten out of those cayuses,--which was what Luck meant to show on the screen; for this, you must know, was the painting of one grim phase of the range-man's life.

The Native Son spurred his horse and got a lunge or two that settled presently to the same plodding walk.
Luck pammed them out of sight, bethought him of the rest of the boys, and commanded Annie-Many-Ponies to call them in.
They came, half frozen, half starved, and so tired they did not know which discomfort irked them most.