d.

"No, 'tain't that," said the cow-puncher, staring harder at the old man.

"Hear about ther race, Sol?" asked Ben.

"Now, don't yer expect me ter ask yer what race an' then spring thet ole
gag about ther 'human race.' I won't stand fer it. I've got troubles
enough. Thet buckskin pony o' mine hez hed ther very divil in him all
day, an' I ain't feelin' none too amiable."

"This is on the square."

"Well, cut loose."

"Bud is going to race Hatrack against that magpie horse grazing out
there, and throw in a six-shooter if the old gent wins."

Sol Flatbush turned and looked at the magpie pony, then at the old man.
Suddenly a gleam of intelligence illuminated his face, and he grinned.

"Say, Bud, I wisht ye'd come over yere an' look at this buckskin's off
hind foot, an' tell me what ye thinks o' it. He's been actin' powerful
queer on it all day."

Bud rose lazily and followed Sol out of camp. The buckskin was grazing
peacefully a few hundred yards away, and as they walked toward it Sol
Flatbush said:

"Bud, d'ye know that ole maverick?"

"I shore don't. Never even ast him his name," answered Bud.

"Well, I do. That's ole 'Cap' Norris. He's a hoss sharp fer fair. He an'
that boy don't do nothin' but ride the country with that magpie hoss,
pickin' up races at cow camps an' ranches an' in towns. That hoss o'
hisn is a 'ringer.' His real name is Idlewild, an' he's a perfessional
race hoss. Boy, yer stung!"

CHAPTER XXVI

"VAMOSE!"

"Oh, I don't know," said Bud quietly, as Sol Flatbush made this
announcement of the ability of Magpie, or Idlewild, as he was known
elsewhere.

"But I do," urged Sol. "I see that hoss run at Ponca City on ther Fo'th
o' July a year ago, an' he jest run away from ther best Indian racers
what ther Osages could bring over, an' yer knows they kin go some."

"Sol, my son, don't git excited. Yer Uncle Bud knows what he's doin'
when he's going inter this yere race. He ain't tellin' ther ole man, nor
none o' you fellers, what thar is in thet Hatrack hoss."

"Got somethin' up yer sleeve?"

"I reckon I hev. If I was a bettin' man, I'd wager my share o' Moon
Valley that Hatrack would win this yere race."

"Sho; yer don't say!"

"Ted seen him run. Ask him. Now, don't you worry none about me. I know a
hoss when I see one standin' on its four legs. That magpie hoss is a
good one, whether his name is Magpie or Idlewild. Ther name don't make
him run no better. But Hatrack is some,