cked inside his shirt. An' that twig was
s'posed t' work both ways. For when Sam was runnin' 'gainst another
feller, he'd put th' twig down in one of th' other feller's footprints,
an' Sam thought that kept th' other feller back.

"Now, this here twig was one o' Gallager's greatest troubles. For Sam
was always losin' it, or leavin' it behind, an' him or Gallager havin'
t' go after it, an' races was havin' t' be held back, or put off, for
Sam wouldn't run without that twig. So Gallager hated it.

"Along comes a time when Sam is stacked up t' meet a corkin' good
runner. An' Sam was off gallivantin' 'round at dances, an' worse things,
an' not trainin' none whatever. An' Gallager says t' himself, 'Here's
where I cure that Injun of th' twig habit.' You see, Sam was that soft
from loafin', he couldn't have beat a mud turtle up a hill, so Gallager
figgers Sam'll likely lose th' race, anyway, an' it'll be worth it t'
get clear o' that infernal twig. So Gallager lets Sam stay soft.

"Along comes th' day o' th' race, an' Gallager hadn't done nothin' or
said nothin', an' Sam runs an' loses, an' after it's all over Gallager
goes t' him.

"'Got your twig?' he says.

"'Uh,' grunts Sam.

"'Stick it in th' other feller's footprints?'

"'Uh.'

"'Got it in your shirt?'

"'Uh huh,' says Sam, an' pulls out th' twig.

"'Well, you didn't win, did you?' says Gallager.

"'Um, um,' says Sam, lookin' at th' twig.

"'Then th' twig's no good, is it?' asks Gallager, lookin' Sam firmly in
th' eye, an' Sam returnin' th' look.

"'NO!' says Sam, an' he throws th' twig away."

The cowpunchers did not believe this story. They did not think that an
Indian can be cured of his medicine. But I know it is true, for I knew
the Indian.

It might not be amiss to state here that there is another Indian alive
to-day, who was a baby in arms when Sam Sharp lived, who ran in and won
thirty-eight Marathon races, when no one else in the world ever finished
first, second, or third in over three. His name is Tom Longboat.

CHAPTER XVII

"THE PRIDE OF THE WEST"

Whitey wandered over to the Star Circle Ranch house. He wanted to see
Walt Lampson, who had paid little attention to him since the night of
the fight. Whitey was getting tired of staying at the Star Circle, and
thought Walt might be ready now to ship the cattle to the Bar O, and
thus give Whitey something to do.

Walt was not in the living-room, which was a large, untidy place that