him go.

With blanched cheeks Carolyn June mounted Red John and with Skinny, Bert
and Chuck, rode back to the Clagstone "Six." Her heart was utterly sick.
So this was it? It had come out--the brute--the beast that was in him!

They reached the car as the Ramblin' Kid, at the horse entrance, at the
other end of the grandstand, came on the track with the Gold Dust
maverick.

Old Heck looked up when the group approached. He saw the agony in
Carolyn June's eyes and started to speak.

"Th' Ramblin' Kid's drunk," Skinny said dully. "He showed up--yonder he
is--" as the beautiful copper-tinted, chestnut filly appeared behind the
other horses entered for the two-mile sweepstakes.

"Drunk?" Old Heck cried incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Watch him!" Chuck said miserably.

The starter was standing with arm outstretched and flag ready to fall.
The filly came down the track jumping nervously from side to side in
short springing leaps. The starter paused, watch in hand. A shout of
admiration and wonder went up from the crowd as the splendid creature
dancing down the track was recognized. The next instant it was succeeded
by a cry of horror that rolled in a great wave from a thousand throats.

"Th' Ramblin' Kid is drunk! He's drunk--the mare will kill him!" as they
saw the slim rider weaving limply in the saddle, his head dropped
forward as if he were utterly helpless.

"Rule that horse off the track!" Dorsey, who was standing with Mike
Sabota, in a box-seat just below the judges' stand, shouted as he saw
the Ramblin' Kid, even in his half-conscious condition, reining the Gold
Dust maverick with consummate skill into position, "her rider's drunk!"

The Ramblin' Kid heard the voice and--by some miracle of the
mind--recognized it, although his eyes, set and glassy, could not see
the speaker.

He turned his head in the direction from which the cry came and
answered, slowly measuring each word:

"Go--go--t' hell--you--you--_coyote_!"

The next instant the starter dropped the flag. As it went down the filly
crouched and reared straight into the air.

That one second gave the other horses the start.

Then the outlaw mare leaped forward directly behind Thunderbolt, running
against the inside rail. Say-So, the Pecos horse, jammed close to the
side of the black stallion; Snow Johnson, rider of Prince John, pushed
the big sorrel ahead with his nose at the roan's tail; Dash-Away hugged
against the heels of Prince John. The Go