n spielers" looked curiously
at the two as they left Captain Jack and Silver Tip, with bridle reins
dropped over their heads, standing in front of the office and stepped
inside.

Lafe Dorsey and Flip Williams were at the clerk's desk.

The Vermejo cattleman had just registered Thunderbolt, with Flip as
rider, for the big race.

They looked around as the Ramblin' Kid and Chuck came in.

"Well, is the Quarter Circle KT getting up sand enough to go against old
Thunderbolt again?" Dorsey asked with a curl of his lip and an ugly
sneer.

"Oh, I reckon we've got a little nerve left," Chuck answered with mock
humility, "not much, but a little, maybe. I was going to put Silver Tip
in the sweepstakes," he went on, "but I guess I won't. Th' Ramblin'
Kid's got an entry and it looks like a darned shame for one outfit to
want to hog it all and grab first and second money both, so I'll stay
out this time."

"You talk pretty loud," Dorsey snarled, catching instantly, as Chuck
intended he should, the covert slur at the black Y-Bar stallion. "Maybe
your money won't make so damned much noise!"

"Here's a couple hundred," Chuck said, pulling a roll of bills from his
shirt pocket. "I'll invest that much on my judgment that Thunderbolt
ain't as good as you think he is."

"I'll take it!" Dorsey snapped, jerking a wad of money from his own
pocket and counting out the amount which he handed to the clerk as
stake-holder. "And here's another hundred--or a thousand if you want
it!"

"That two hundred is about all I can handle this morning," Chuck
laughed. "But I understand Old Heck's aiming to bet a little," he
drawled suggestively; "probably you'd like to see him?"

"I'll see him--and raise him till he squeals!" Dorsey sneered.

The Ramblin' Kid ignored the tilt between Dorsey and Chuck and leaned
indifferently against the counter waiting for the clerk to fill out the
entry blank.

"Event?" the clerk questioned.

"Two-mile run," was the quiet answer.

"Rider--and horse?" glancing up.

Dorsey and Flip paused and turned their heads to catch the names the
Ramblin' Kid gave.

"I'm the rider, I reckon," the Ramblin' Kid replied, "I guess you know
who I am. Th' name of th' horse? Well, now ain't that funny?" he said
with a little laugh, "I never have bothered to name that critter yet!
But--oh, hell, what's the difference? We'll just call her 'Ophelia' for
th' time bein'--in honor of a lady-widow that's visitin' out at th'
ranch!"