t some
of 'em had to wait till dark to go home."

Collie, listening, felt his heart pump faster. He turned away for an
instant that his fellows might not see the disappointment in his face.
He had hoped to ride Boyar to victory.

"Miss Louise could get more out of Boyar in a race than even Miguel
here," said Billy Dime.

"I dunno," said Williams. "She give me orders that Miguel was to ride
Boyar if they was any racin'."

So Louise herself had chosen Miguel to ride the pony. Collie grew
unreasonably jealous. Once more and again he pledged the Moonstone
Rancho in a brimming cup. Then he wandered over to the Mexican ponies,
inspecting them casually.

A Mexican youth, handsome, dark, smiling, offered to bet with him on the
result of the races. Collie declined, but gained his point. He learned
the Mexican's choice for first place, a lean, wiry buckskin with a goat
head and a wicked eye, but with wonderful flanks and withers. Collie
meditated. As a result he placed something like fifty dollars in bets
with various ranchers, naming the Mexican horse for first place. Word
went round that the Moonstone Kid was betting against his own horse.

Later Brand Williams accosted him. "What you fell up against?" he asked
sternly. "What made you jar yourself loose like that?"

"It's horses with me to-day--not home-sweet-home, Brand. Bet you a pair
of specs--and you need 'em--to a bag of peanuts that the Chola cayuse
runs first."

"Your brains is afloat, son. You better cut out the booze."

Unexpectedly Collie encountered Louise as he went to look after his own
horses.

"I hear that you intend to ride the outlaw Yuma. Is it so?"

Collie nodded.

"I had rather you didn't," said Louise.

"Why?" asked Collie, tactlessly.

Louise did not answer, and Collie strode off feeling angry with himself
and more than ever determined to risk breaking his neck to win the
outlaw.

Boyar, the Moonstone pony, ran second in the finals. The buckskin of the
Mexicans won first place. Collie collected his winnings indifferently.
He grew ashamed of himself, realizing that a foolish and unwarrantable
jealousy had led him into a species of disloyalty. He was a Moonstone
rider. He had bet against the Moonstone pony, and _her_ pony. He was
about to ask one of the other boys to see to the horses when a tumult in
the corrals drew his attention. He strolled over to the crowd, finding a
place for himself on the corral bars.

Mat Gleason, superintende