The brothers remorselessly turned him, and now Mescal, forcing the
running, caught him, lashed his haunches with her whip, and drove him
into the gate of the corral.
August and his two sons were close behind, and blocked the gate.
Silvermane's race was nearly run.
"Hold here, boys," said August. "I'll go in and drive him round and
round till he's done, then, when I yell, you stand aside and rope him as
he comes out."
Silvermane ran round the corral, tore at the steep scaly walls, fell back
and began his weary round again and yet again. Then as sense and courage
yielded gradually to unreasoning terror, he ran blindly; every time he
passed the guarded gateway his eyes were wilder, and his stride more
labored.
"Now!" yelled August Naab.
Mescal drew out of the opening, and Dave and Billy pulled away, one on
each side, their lassoes swinging loosely.
Silvermane sprang for the opening with something of his old speed. As he
went through, yellow loops flashed in the sun, circling, narrowing, and
he seemed to run straight into them. One loop whipped close round his
glossy neck; the other caught his head.
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