W. Crispin Sheppard, The Rambler Club on the Texas border (1915)
“ Over the rolling prairie floor at scarcely slackening speed dashed the herd. Tom found himself being forced nearer and nearer the center. His pony, sometimes almost lifted off his feet, fought desperately. He probably [171] knew as well as his rider that a fall would mean the snuffing out of his life in a twinkling by the flying hoofs.The Rambler had lost all idea of direction, or how far they had gone. The excitement of the previous moments now gave place to a dull calm, which quieted the rapid beating of his heart. ”
