rawn tight.

Tresler had come over by himself, leaving Jake to watch the
proceedings from the vantage ground of the rise toward the house. He
was quite quiet, and the boys stole occasional apprehensive glances at
him. They knew this mare; they knew that she was a hopeless outlaw and
fit only for the knacker's yard. At last Jacob beckoned him over.

"Say, ther' ain't no need fer you to ride her, mister," he said,
feeling that it was his duty as a man to warn him. "She's the worstest
devil on the range, an' she'll break your neck an' jump on you with
her maulin' great hoofs, sure. I guess ther' ain't a 'buster' in the
country 'ud tackle her fer less 'an a fi' dollar wager, she's that
mean."

"And she looks all you say of her, Jacob," replied Tresler, with a
grim smile. "Thanks for your warning, but I'm going to try and ride
her," he went on with quiet decision. "Not because I think I can, but
because that bully up there"--with a nod in Jake's direction--"would
only be too glad of the chance of taunting me with 'weakening.' She
shall throw me till she makes it a physical impossibility for me to
mount her again. All I ask is that you fellows stand by to keep her
off when I'm on the ground."

By this time Jacob had secured the saddle, and now Tresler walked
round the great beast, patting her gently and speaking to her. And she
watched him with an evil, staring eye that boded nothing good. Then he
took a rawhide quirt from Jacob and, twisting it on his wrist, mounted
her, while the men kept the choking rope taut about her throat, and
she stood like a statue, except for the heaving of her sides as she
gasped for breath.

He gathered the reins up, which had been passed through the noose of
the lariat, and sat ready. Jacob drew off, and held the end of the
rope. Tresler gave the word. The two men left her, while, with a shake
and a swift jerk, Jacob flung the lariat clear of the mare's head. In
an instant the battle had begun.

Down went the lady's head (the boys called her by a less complimentary
name), and she shot into the air with her back humped till she shaped
like an inverted U with its extremities narrowed and almost touching.
There was no seesaw bucking about her. It was stiff-legged, with her
four feet bunched together and her great fiddle-head lost in their
midst. And at the first jump Tresler shot a foot out of the saddle,
lurched forward and then back, and finally came down where he had
started from. And as