en miles of broken
country to this, the stipulated starting place of the race in which
Hume and Shandon had months ago been the sole entries. Hume carelessly
good natured, indifferent as usual, openly gratified over a bit of
sharp work, merely laughed.

"You might as well hand over the money now, Charlie," he retorted
without turning, his steely eyes brightening as they rested upon his
mount, Endymion, who was fretting at the restraint imposed upon him by
the man at his head. "The agreement took care of just such a matter as
this; if only one man rides he gets the money."

Among the knot of men upon the little, pine fringed knoll, were Big
Bill, Dart, MacKelvey and half a dozen of the curious from El Toyon and
the mountain ranches. Hume's retort was taken in silence. But there
was not a man who smiled or who did not think as Granger had spoken.
Long ago, when it had first gone abroad that Wayne Shandon was
promoting these races, the one essential thing he had planned had been
thoroughly understood to be fair play, square dealing, straight racing.
These were fair minded men, and although there was more than one among
them who believed the fugitive guilty of the crime imputed to him,
there was none who did not see the rank injustice of what was going to
happen. The feature race of the day would be stolen. And they knew at
whose instigation it was that Wayne Shandon was not here to-day.

It was early afternoon and already a number of the events had been run
off before a clamorous, enthusiastic crowd of five hundred men and
women. The Bar L-M at the surly orders of Big Bill had been turned
into a place breathing welcome and revelry. Tents had been pitched
under the big pines, making a white city gay with bunting and flags
that would accommodate many visitors during the night; tables that had
been constructed out in the open staggered under the load of provisions
the wagons had brought from the nearest town; a platform for dancing
later was already the playground of laughing children and frisking dogs.

The shorter races had taken place upon the flats below the range house,
down toward the bridge. Under the glowing June sun, through the crisp
air, with blue sky above and green grass underfoot, the contesting
horses, each ridden by its owner, had shot by the brief lived village
of tents, thundered past the platform where the judges sat, cheered and
shrieked at by men and women. There had been races of half a mile