a
mile he was marvelously fast, as Farrel had discovered early in the
tryouts. Indeed, as a "quarter-horse" Farrel knew that few horses
might beat the comparatively green Peep-sight and he had been
indiscreet enough to make that statement in the presence of youthful
Allesandro Trujillo, thereby filling that young hopeful with a
tremendous ambition to race the famed Panchito into submission for the
mere sport of a race.

In a word, Allesandro's Indian blood was up. If there was anything he
loved, it was a horse-race for money, chalk, marbles or fun. Therefore
when a quick glance over his shoulder showed Panchito's blazed face at
Peep-sight's rump, Allesandro clucked to his mount, gathered the reins
a trifle tighter and dug his dirty bare heels into Peep-sight's ribs,
for he was riding bareback, as an Indian should. Peep-sight responded
to the invitation with such alacrity that almost instantly he had
opened a gap of two full lengths between himself and Kay on Panchito.

Farrel and Parker, holding their stop-watches, watched the race from
the judge's stand.

"By Jove, that Peep-sight _is_ a streak," Parker declared admiringly.
"He can beat Panchito at that distance, even at proportionate weights
and with an even break at the start."

Farrel nodded, his father's old racing-glass fixed on Allesandro and
Kay. The girl had "gathered" her mount; she was leaning low on his
powerful neck and Farrel knew that she was talking to him, riding him
out as he had never been ridden before. And he was responding. Foot
by foot he closed the distance that Peep-sight had opened up, but
within a hundred yards of the finish Allesandro again called upon his
mount for some more of the same, and the gallant Peep-sight flattened
himself perceptibly and held his own; nor could Panchito's greatest
efforts gain upon the flying half-breed a single inch.

"Bully for the Indian kid," Parker yelled. "Man, man, that's a horse
race."

"They'll never stop at the half-mile pole," Farrel laughed. "That race
will be won by Panchito when Panchito wins it. Ah, I told you so."

"Well, Peep-sight wins at the half by one open length--and the _cholo_
boy is using a switch on him!"

"He's through. Panchito is gaining on him. He'll pass him at the
three-quarter pole."

"Right-o, Farrel. Panchito wins by half a length at the three-quarter
pole--"

"I wish Kay would pull him up," Farrel complained. "He's gone too far
already and there she is