lind. Every hour is to the good for you."

Curly shrugged. "Drunk or sober Soapy always shoots straight."

Another day passed. The festivities had begun and Curly had to be much in
evidence before the public. His friends had attempted to dissuade him from
riding in the bucking broncho contest, but he had refused to let his name
be scratched from the list of contestants.

A thousand pair of eyes in the grandstand watched the boy as he lounged
against the corral fence laughing and talking with his friends. A dozen
people were on the lookout for the approach of Stone. Fifty others had
warned the young man to be careful. For Saguache was with him almost to a
man.

Dick Maloney heard his voice called as he was passing the grandstand, A
minute later he was in the Cullison box shaking hands with Kate.

"Is--is there anything new?" she asked in a low voice.

Her friend shook his head. "No. Soapy may drift out here any minute now."

"Will he----?" Her eyes finished the question.

He shook his head. "Don't know. That's the mischief of it. If they should
meet just after Curly finishes riding the boy won't have a chance. His
nerves won't be steady enough."

"Dad is doing something. I don't know what it is. He had a meeting with a
lot of cattlemen about it---- I don't see how that boy _can_ sit there on
the fence laughing when any minute----"

"Curly's game as they make 'em. He's a prince, too. I like that boy better
every day."

"He doesn't seem to me so----wild. But they say he's awfully reckless."
She said it with a visible reluctance, as if she wanted him to deny the
charge.

"Sho! Curly needs explaining some. That's all. Give a dog a bad name and
hang him. That saying is as straight as the trail of a thirsty cow. The
kid got off wrong foot first, and before he'd hardly took to shaving
respectable folks were hunting the dictionary to find bad names to throw
at him. He was a reprobate and no account. Citizens that differed on
everything else was unanimous about that. Mothers kinder herded their
young folks in a corral when he slung his smile their way."

"But why?" she persisted. "What had he done?"

"Gambled his wages, and drank some, and, beat up Pete Schiff, and shot the
lights out of the Legal Tender saloon. That's about all at first."

"Wasn't it enough?"

"Most folks thought so. So when Curly bumped into them keep-off-the-grass
signs parents put up for him he had to prove they were justified. That's
the w