iant luster like gold leaf, but
softer; rather like cloth-of-gold, with a living, quivering sheen. All
the horse's body was of this uniform, strange tint, but his mane and
tail were a dull, tawny yellow deepening at the extremities into the
hue of rusty gold. Though his hide was streaked with the sweat of his
rebellion, and caked in places with the dust of the long road he had
come, and welted by the whips of his tormentors, the color and the
gloss shone out as undimmed as his proud spirit was undaunted by the
hard knocks of his captivity.

The three men clearly were hard pressed. Their faces were coated thick
with dust; their eyes were red-rimmed, bulging, and bloodshot; their
movements were heavy with fatigue. Scarcely a sound escaped their lips
as they watched for every fresh manoeuver of their prisoner, and
fought doggedly to gain a yard or two along the road. In the silence
and intensity of the struggle there was something savage, elemental,
and incomparable, heightened by the extraordinary beauty of the animal
and the uncouth appearance of the men. Between them, the captive and
his captors, Marion's sympathy was about equally divided. At every
gallant sally made by the horse her heart leaped, and she hoped
instinctively that he would go free. But then, the next instant, she
was thrilled by the bold and shrewd counter-play of the cow-punchers
that blocked the horse's strategy.

Marion had scarcely comprehended all this, and imperfectly, when a
terrifying thing occurred. The golden horse seemed to have paused and
gathered all his forces for an effort that should make his best
previous performance look like the silly antics of a colt. Suddenly,
and without any warning manoeuver, he charged the full length of his
rope straight at the man who held it coiled in his hand, with the end
looped around the horn of his saddle. At the final bound, he reared as
if to fall upon the cowboy and mangle him with his forefeet. But
instead of finishing this attack, he whirled on his hind legs with
incredible swiftness; and before the man could gather up the slack of
the rope, or brace himself for the shock, the wild horse dashed across
the road with all the strength and fury there was in him.

Marion screamed, and closed her eyes. There were dreadful sounds of
falling bodies, of bodies dragged on the ground, with grunts and
groans and smothered cries. Then silence. When she dared to look she
could see at first only a welter of men