Calumet remained unshaken, tenacious as ever.

The black caught his breath again, and for the next five minutes practiced his whole category of tricks, and in addition some that he invented in the stress of the time.
To Betty, watching from her distance, it seemed that he must certainly unseat Calumet.

She had watched bucking horses before, but never had her interest in the antics of one been so intense; never had she been so desperately eager for a rider's victory; never had she felt so breathlessly fearful of one's defeat.

For, glancing from the corners of her eyes at Kelton, she saw a scornful, mocking smile on his face.
He was wishing, hoping, that the black would throw Calumet.
At the risk of danger from the black's hoofs she urged Blackleg forward to a more advantageous position.

As she brought him to a halt, she heard Kelton beside her.
"Some sunfisher, that black," he remarked.
She turned on him fiercely.