une caught the subtle reference to the Bible story of King
David's unfortunate romance with another man's "woman" and chuckled.

"Ain't you starting the beef hunt too early?" Charley asked.

"I don't know as I am," Old Heck answered doggedly.

"Aw, that'll put us right in the middle of it on the Fourth of July when
the Rodeo is going on in Eagle Butte--" Bert began.

"And I ain't going to miss that, either," Chuck interrupted, "that
Y-Bar outfit over on the Vermejo took everything in the two-mile
sweepstakes last year and they've been bragging about it ever since.
They think that Thunderbolt horse of theirs can't be beat. I was going
to put Silver Tip in this year. He can put that black in second place--"

"No, he can't," the Ramblin' Kid remarked quietly, "--you'd lose your
money. There's only one animal on th' Kiowa range that can outrun that
Vermejo horse."

"What animal is that?" Charley asked.

"She's in th' circular corral," the Ramblin' Kid answered laconically.

"The Gold Dust maverick?" Bert questioned.

"That's the one I mean," the Ramblin' Kid replied in a low voice, "for
two miles--or five--there ain't nothin' in western Texas, or Mexico
either, that can catch her."

"Why don't you take her in when the Rodeo is on and run her in the
sweepstakes then?" Chuck asked eagerly. "I ain't caring what Kiowa horse
gets the money just so that Y-Bar outfit is taken down a notch or two.
Ever since they got that Thunderbolt horse and beat Old Heck's
Quicksilver with him they've been crowing over the Quarter Circle KT and
I'm getting plumb sick of it--"

"Old Heck lost three thousand dollars on that race!" Bert interrupted
rather triumphantly.

"I didn't neither," Old Heck corrected sullenly, "it was only
twenty-five hundred!"

"Well, that Vermejo crowd has got a hundred of mine," Chuck said
vindictively, "but I don't give a darn for that--I'd be willing to lose
twice that much again just to set that Thunderbolt horse of theirs back
in second place!"

"Why don't you run the outlaw filly?" Charley asked coaxingly of the
Ramblin' Kid.

"Yes, go on and put her in," Skinny urged, "--you ought to!"

The Ramblin' Kid remained silent, seemingly indifferent to the teasing
of the others.

Carolyn June leaned over and said, in a voice audible only to him, while
her eyes grew mellow with a look that tested his composure to the
uttermost but which wrung no sign from him:

"Please, race the maverick--I--want you