ng wet, flying
lather, and as hot as fire. Savage as ever, strong as ever, fast as
ever, but each tremendous stride jarred Venters out of the saddle!
Wrangle's power and spirit and momentum had begun to run him off his
legs. Wrangle's great race was nearly won--and run. Venters seemed to
see the expanse before him as a vast, sheeted, purple plain sliding
under him. Black Star moved in it as a blur. The rider, Jerry Card,
appeared a mere dot bobbing dimly. Wrangle thundered on--on--on! Venters
felt the increase in quivering, straining shock after every leap. Flecks
of foam flew into Venters's eyes, burning him, making him see all the
sage as red. But in that red haze he saw, or seemed to see, Black Star
suddenly riderless and with broken gait. Wrangle thundered on to change
his pace with a violent break. Then Venters pulled him hard. From run
to gallop, gallop to canter, canter to trot, trot to walk, and walk to
stop, the great sorrel ended his race.

Venters looked back. Black Star stood riderless in the trail. Jerry
Card had taken to the sage. Far up the white trail Night came trotting
faithfully down. Venters leaped off, still half blind, reeling dizzily.
In a moment he had recovered sufficiently to have a care for Wrangle.
Rapidly he took off the saddle and bridle. The sorrel was reeking,
heaving, whistling, shaking. But he had still the strength to stand, and
for him Venters had no fears.

As Venters ran back to Black Star he saw the horse stagger on shaking
legs into the sage and go down in a heap. Upon reaching him Venters
removed the saddle and bridle. Black Star had been killed on his legs,
Venters thought. He had no hope for the stricken horse. Black Star
lay flat, covered with bloody froth, mouth wide, tongue hanging, eyes
glaring, and all his beautiful body in convulsions.

Unable to stay there to see Jane's favorite racer die, Venters hurried
up the trail to meet the other black. On the way he kept a sharp lookout
for Jerry Card. Venters imagined the rider would keep well out of range
of the rifle, but, as he would be lost on the sage without a horse, not
improbably he would linger in the vicinity on the chance of getting back
one of the blacks. Night soon came trotting up, hot and wet and run out.
Venters led him down near the others, and unsaddling him, let him loose
to rest. Night wearily lay down in the dust and rolled, proving himself
not yet spent.

Then Venters sat down to rest and think. Whatever