I don't reckon you'll be able to keep up with us, but I reckon you'll excuse me for runnin' away from you." He had scarcely finished speaking before the black struggled to rise.
Calumet helped him by keeping a loose rein and lifting his own body.
And when the black swung over and got to its feet, Calumet settled firmly into the saddle and instantly jammed his spurs home into its flanks.

The black reared, snorted, came down and began to run desperately across the level, desiring nothing so much now as to do the bidding of the will which he had discovered to be superior to his own.
Betty watched in silence as horse and rider went over the level, traveling in a dust cloud, and when they began to fade she turned to Kelton.

The latter was crestfallen, glum.
"Shucks," he said; "if I'd have thought he'd break the black devil he wouldn't have got him for twice fifty dollars.

He's sure a slick, don't-give-a-damn buster." Betty smiled mysteriously and went to look for Calumet's hat.

Then, riding Blackleg and leading the other horse, she went toward the Lazy Y.
It was dusk when she arrived, to be greeted by Dade and Bob.