nose and wicked red
eyes were enough to give one bad dreams. But the lean-flanked young
miner appeared clamped to the saddle. Lithe and sinuous as a panther, he
rode with a perfect ease that was captivating. Teddy tried all its
tricks. It went up into the air and came down with all four legs stiff
as iron posts. It shot forward in a series of quick sharp bucks. It
flung itself against the wall of the arena to crush the leg of this
rider who held the saddle with such perfect poise. But Jack Kilmeny was
equal to the occasion and more. When the brute went over backward, in a
somersault, he was out of the saddle and in again before the vicious
outlaw had staggered to its feet. Even the frontier West had never seen
a more daring and magnificent piece of horsemanship.

Captain Kilmeny clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Bravo! Well done!"
He turned to Moya, who sat beside him. "Finest bit of rough-riding I
ever saw. Not one man in a million could have done it."

"It's all in getting the hang of the thing, you know," drawled Verinder
complacently.

Moya, who was leaning forward with her dark eyes fixed on the two superb
animals fighting for mastery in the arena, thought both comments
characteristic. The captain was a sportsman and a gentleman, the
millionaire was neither.

India whispered in the ear of Moya. "He's as broadminded as a crab, just
about."

The reference was of course to Verinder. "I think we ought to be fair,
even to a crab, dear," Miss Dwight answered dryly.

The battle between the outlaw broncho and its rider was over. The
confidence of Teddy Roosevelt as well as its strength had been shaken.
The bucks of the pony were easy to foresee. Presently they ceased. The
horse stood with drooping head, foam dripping from its mouth, flanks
flecked with sweat stains.

Kilmeny swung from the saddle, and at the same time Colter stepped into
the arena. He drew Jack aside and whispered in his ear. India, watching
the rough-rider through field glasses, saw the face of the young man
grow grim and hard. Without the delay of a moment he pushed through the
crowd that gathered to congratulate him and walked out of the grounds
with Colter.

The other two riders who had reached the finals were both experts in the
saddle. One of them, however, had been traveling with a Wild West show
and was too soft to hold his own against the bit of incarnate deviltry
he was astride. To save himself he had to clutch at the horn of the
sa