She tried again, and Johnny nodded, though Mary V could not see him without turning her head, which she seemed to think she must not do.
The Rolling R boys--Tex and Bill Hayden and Curley and Aleck and one or two more whom this story has not met--were driving a small herd of horses from which they meant to cut out a few chosen ones for breaking.

Away up toward where the sun would be at two o'clock, a little droning dragonfly thing coming swiftly, and a little imp of mischief whispering into the willing ear of one who felt that he had suffered much and patiently.

Mary V, hanging on tight, with her lips pressed together and her eyes big and bright behind her goggles, watched how swiftly the antlike creatures grew larger and took the form of horses and men.
Johnny dared a volplane, slanting steeply down at the herd.

He wanted to get close enough so that they could see who he was, and he wanted to fill his lungs and then shout down to them something that would make them squirm.

He meant to flatten out a hundred feet or so above them and shout, "_For I'm a rider of the sky!_" and then give a range yell and climb up away from them with arrogant indifference to their stunned amazement.
Well, Johnny did it.