No heavy bit worried
his mouth, no pointed steel tormented his flanks. He had only one
handicap--the weight of his rider, and that weight was balanced and
distributed with the care of a perfect horseman.
With all this in mind it was hardly wonderful that the stallion kept the
posse easily in play. His breathing was a trifle harder, now, and perhaps
there was not quite the same light spring in his gallop, but Barry, looking
back, could tell by the tossing heads of the horses which followed that
they were being quickly run down to the last gasp. Mile after mile there
was not a pause in that murderous pace, and then, cutting the sky with a
row of sharply pointed roofs, he saw a town straight ahead and groaned in
understanding.
It was rather new country to Barry, but the posse must know it like a book.
They were spending their horses freely because they hoped to arrange for a
fresh series of mounts in Wago. However, it would take some time for them
to arrange the details of the loan, and by that time he would be out of
sight among the hills which stretched ahead.
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