Then Lucy told him about the great passion of her father--about the long, time-honored custom of free-for-all races, and the great races that had been run in the past; about the Creeches and their swift horses; about the rivalry and speculation and betting; and lastly about the races to be run in a few weeks--races so wonderful in prospect that even the horse-thief, Cordts, had begged to be allowed to attend.
"I'm going to see the King beat Creech's roan," shouted the rider, with red in his cheeks and a flash in his eye.
His enthusiasm warmed Lucy's interest, yet it made her thoughtful.Ideas flashed into her mind.If the rider attended the races he would have that fleet stallion with him.He could not be separated from the horse that had cost him so dearly.What would Bostil and Holley and Farlane say at sight of Wildfire? Suppose Wildfire was to enter the races! It was probable that he could run away from the whole field--even beat the King.Lucy thrilled and thrilled.What a surprise it would be! She had the rider's true love of seeing the unheralded horse win over the favorite.She had for years wanted to see a horse--and ride a horse--out in front of Sage King.Then suddenly all these flashing ideas coruscated seemingly into a gleam-- a leaping, radiant, wonderful thought.Irresistibly it burst from her.
"Let ME ride your Wildfire in the great race?" she cried, breathlessly.
His response was instantaneous--a smile that was keen and sweet and strong, and a proffered hand.Impulsively Lucy clasped that hand with both hers.
"You don't mean it," she said."Oh, it's what Auntie would call one of my wild dreams!...And I'm growing up--they say....But-- Oh, if I could ride Wildfire against the field in that race....If I ONLY COULD!"She was on fire with the hope, flushing, tingling.She was unconscious of her effect upon the rider, who gazed at her with a new-born light in his eyes.
"You can ride him.I reckon I'd like to see that race just as much as Bostil or Cordts or any man....An' see here, girl, Wildfire can beat this gray racer of your father's.""Oh!" cried Lucy.
"Wildfire can beat the King," repeated the rider, intensely."The tame horse doesn't step on this earth that can run with Wildfire.He's a stallion.He has been a killer of horses.It's in him to KILL.If he ran a race it would be that instinct in him.""How can we plan it?" went on Lucy, impulsively.She had forgotten to withdraw her hands from his."It must be a surprise--a complete surprise.If you came to the Ford we couldn't keep it secret.And Dad or Farlane would prevent me, somehow.""It's easy.Ride out here as often as you can.Bring a light saddle an' let me put you up on Wildfire.You'll run him, train him, get him in shape.Then the day of the races or the night before I'll go in an' hide out in the sage till you come or send for Wildfire.""Oh, it'll be glorious," she cried, with eyes like stars."I know just where to have you hide.A pile of rocks near the racecourse.There's a spring and good grass.I could ride out to you just before the big race, and we'd come back, with me on Wildfire.The crowd always stays down at the end of the racecourse.Only the starters stay out there....Oh, I can see Bostil when that red stallion runs into sight!""Well, is it settled?" queried the rider, strangely.
Lucy was startled into self-consciousness by his tone.
How strangely he must have felt.And his eyes were piercing.
"You mean--that I ride Wildfire?" she replied, shyly."Yes, if you'll let me.""I'll be proud."
"You're very good....And do you think Wildfire can beat the King?""I know it."
"How do you?"
"I've seen both horses."
"But it will be a grand race."
"I reckon so.It's likely to be the grandest ever seen.But Wildfire will win because he's run wild all his life--an' run to kill other horses....The only question is--CAN you ride him?""Yes.I never saw the horse I couldn't ride.Bostil says there are some Ican't ride.Farlane says not.Only two horses have thrown me, the King and Sarchedon.But that was before they knew me.And I was sort of wild.I can make your Wildfire love me.""THAT'S the last part of it I'd ever doubt," replied the rider."It's settled, then.I'll camp here.I'll be well in a few days.Then I'll take Wildfire in hand.You will ride out whenever you have a chance, without bein' seen.An'
the two of us will train the stallion to upset that race.""Yes--then--it's settled."
Lucy's gaze was impelled and held by the rider's.Why was he so pale? But then he had been injured--weakened.This compact between them had somehow changed their relation.She seemed to have known him long.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Lin Slone," replied the rider.
Then she released her hands."I must ride in now.If this isn't a dream I'll come back soon." She led Sage King to a rock and mounted him.
"It's good to see you up there," said Slone."An' that splendid horse!...
He knows what he is.It'll break Bostil's heart to see that horse beat.""Dad'll feel bad, but it'll do him good," replied Lucy.
That was the old rider's ruthless spirit speaking out of his daughter's lips.
Slone went close to the King and, putting a hand on the pommel, he looked up at Lucy."Maybe--it is--a dream--an' you won't come back," he said, with unsteady voice.
"Then I'll come in dreams," she flashed."Be careful of yourself....
Good-by."
And at a touch the impatient King was off.From far up the slope near a monument Lucy looked back.Slone was watching her.She waved a gauntleted hand--and then looked back no more.
