Over the prairie the pony sped, as if he had just started in the race.

Thus another mile was covered, and now Dave calculated he must be six or seven miles from Star Ranch.
The country about him looked strange, and he wondered where he was.
Nothing in the shape of a trail had come to view during the last run.
When the bronco stopped his racing, the youth turned him around again.
He now showed signs of fatigue, but Dave urged him on, digging his knees into the animal's ribs as tightly as ever.

Dave was almost "used up" himself, but he resolved to make the bronco take him back to the corral or die in the attempt.
"They shan't have the laugh on me," he argued.

"It's back to the ranch or nothing!" Dave steered the best course he could for the corral, but with nothing to guide him he did not know if he was moving exactly in the right direction or not.

He kept on, with his eyes trying to look beyond the wide-stretching prairies.
Presently he saw in the distance what looked to be a row of low buildings.