e's up on a HOSS," replied
Holley, as he took the glass. He leveled it, adjusted it to his eyes,
and then looked long. Bostil grew impatient. Lucy was rapidly
overhauling the troop of racers on her way to the post. Nothing ever
hurried or excited Holley.

"Wal, can't you see any better 'n me?" queried Bostil, eagerly.

"Come on, Holl, give us a tip before she gits to the post," spoke up a
rider.

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. Bost