arm full of
his buckshot and anxious to explain, and him strainin' to get in
range again and not wishin' any further particulars.

That was way back in the sixties, when I was as wild a lad as ever
straddled a pony.

You see five of us had gone over into the Crow Nation to race horses
with the Indians, and it was on the way back that the old man and the
bullet holes figger in the story.

At the beginnin' it was Jim Barrett's plan, and it had jest enough
risk and devilment in it to suit a harum-scarum young feller like me;
so we got five of the boys who had good horses, lumped together all
of our money, and rode out to invade the reservation.

You know how an Indian loves to run horses? Well, the Crows had a
good deal of money then, and our scheme was to go over there, get up
a big race, back our horses with all we had, and take down the wealth.

Takin' chances? Don't you believe it. That's where the beauty of
Jim's plan commenced to sort of shine through.

You see, as soon as the money was up and the horses started, every
Indian would be watchin' the race and yellin' at the nags, then, in
the confusion, our boys was to grab the whole pot, Indian's money and
ours too, and we'd make our get away across the river back into Texas.

We figured that we could get a few minutes start of 'em, and, with
the horses we had under us, there wasn't much danger of their gettin'
in range before we crossed back to where they couldn't follow us.

Well, sir! I never see anything work out like that scheme did. Them
Crows was dead anxious to run their ponies and seemed skeered that we
wouldn't let 'em get all their money up.

As we was eatin' supper the night before the race, Donnelly says:
"Boys, I'm sore that we didn't have more coin. If we'd worked 'em
right they'd 'a' give us odds. We could 'a' got five to three
anyhow, and maybe more."

"They shore have got a heap of confidence in them skates of their'n,"
says Kink Martin. "I never see anybody so anxious to play a race in
my life. If it wasn't all planned out the way it is, I'd like to
stick and see which hoss is the best. I'd back Black Hawk agin any
hunk of meat in the Territory, with the Kid here in the saddle."

They'd ribbed it up for me to ride Martin's mare, Black Hawk, while a
little feller named Hollis rode his own horse.

Donnelly's part was to stay in the saddle and keep the other horses
close to Barrett and Martin. They was to stick next to the mone