he stopped as short as he had done before, but this time with an added
buck and a sidewise lurch all combined, which gave the effect of
snapping a whip--and poor Morgan was hurled from the saddle like
a stone from a sling. The crowd waved their hats and yelled with
delight.

"Look out!" yelled Jim Silent. "Grab the reins!"

But though Morgan made a valiant effort the roan easily swerved past
him and went racing down the road.

"My God," groaned Silent, "he's gone!"

"Saddles!" called someone. "We'll catch him!"

"Catch hell!" answered Silent bitterly. "There ain't a hoss on earth
that can catch him--an' now that he ain't got the weight of a rider,
he'll run away from the wind!"

"Anyway there goes Dan on Satan after him!"

"No use! The roan ain't carryin' a thing but the saddle."

"Satan never seen the day he could make the roan eat dust, anyway!"

"Look at 'em go, boys!"

"There ain't no use," said Jim Silent sadly, "he'll wind his black for
nothin'--an' I've lost the best hoss on the ranges."