Cordts showed intense eagerness, and all the group were excited.Lucy's advent, on an unknown horse that even her father could not disparage, was the last and unexpected addition to the suspense.They all knew that if the horse was fast Lucy would be dangerous.
Holley at last spoke: "She's up on a wild stallion.He's red, like fire.He's mighty big--strong.Looks as if he didn't want to go near the bunch.Lord!
what action!...Bostil, I'd say--a great hoss!"There was a moment's intense silence in the group round Bostil.Holley was never known to mistake a horse or to be extravagant in judgment or praise.
"A wild stallion!" echoed Bostil."A-huh! An' she calls him Wildfire.Where'd she get him?...Gimme thet glass."But all Bostil could make out was a blur.His eyes were wet.He realized now that his first sight of Lucy on the strange horse had been clear and strong, and it was that which had dimmed his eyes.
"Holley, you use the glass--an' tell me what comes off," said Bostil, as he wiped his eyes with his scarf.He was relieved to find that his sight was clearing."My God! if I couldn't see this finish!"Then everybody watched the close, dark mass of horses and riders down the valley.And all waited for Holley to speak."They're linin' up," began the rider."Havin' some muss, too, it 'pears....Bostil, thet red hoss is raisin' hell! He wants to fight.There! he's up in the air....Boys, he's a devil--a hoss-killer like all them wild stallions....He's plungin' at the King--strikin'! There! Lucy's got him down.She's handlin' him....Now they've got the King on the other side.Thet's better.But Lucy's hoss won't stand.Anyway, it's a runnin' start....Van's got the best position.Foxy Van!...He'll be leadin' before the rest know the race's on....Them Indian mustangs are behavin' scandalous.Guess the red stallion scared 'em.
Now they're all lined up back of the post....Ah! gun-smoke! They move...
.It looks like a go."
Then Holley was silent, strained.in watching.So were all the watchers silent.Bostil saw far down the valley a moving, dark line of horses.
"THEY'RE OFF! THEY'RE OFF!" called Holley, thrillingly.
Bostil uttered a deep and booming yell, which rose above the shouts of the men round him and was heard even in the din of Indian cries.Then as quickly as the yells had risen they ceased.
Holley stood up on the rock with leveled glass.
"Mac's dropped the flag.It's a sure go.Now!...Van's out there front--inside.The King's got his stride.Boss, the King's stretchin' out!..
.Look! Look! see thet red hoss leap!...Bostil, he's runnin' down the King! I knowed it.He's like lightnin'.He's pushin' the King over--off the course! See him plunge! Lord! Lucy can't pull him! She goes up--down--tossed--but she sticks like a burr.Good, Lucy! Hang on!...My Gawd, Bostil, the King's thrown! He's down!...He comes up, off the course.
The others flash by....Van's out of the race!...An', Bostil--an', gentlemen, there ain't anythin' more to this race but a red hoss!"Bostil's heart gave a great leap and then seemed to stand still.He was half cold, half hot.
What a horrible, sickening disappointment.Bostil rolled out a cursing query.
