ief, the spurs ceased to
bite. But he was not misled. There was that moment near the corral
fence when he had not moved, but still the spurs had sunk in anyway.
He would make certain this time that the creature with the spurs would
not have another opportunity to use them. And, gathering himself for a
supreme effort, he lunged again, shunting himself off toward a stretch
of plain back of the ranchhouse, bounding like a ball, his back arched,
his head between his forelegs, coming down from each rise with his
hoofs bunched so that they might have all landed in a dinner plate.

It was fruitless. Calumet remained unshaken, tenacious as ever. The
black caught his breath again, and for the next five minutes practiced
his whole category of tricks, and in addition some that he invented in
the stress of the time.

To Betty, watching from her distance, it seemed that he must certainly
unseat Calumet. She had watched bucking horses before, but never had
her interest in the antics of one been so intense; never had she been
so desperately eager for a rider's victory; never had she felt so
breathlessly fearful of one's defeat. For, glancing from the corners
of her eyes at Kelton, she saw a scornful, mocking smile on his face.
He was wishing, hoping, that the black would throw Calumet.

At the risk of danger from the black's hoofs she urged Blackleg forward
to a more advantageous position. As she brought him to a halt, she
heard Kelton beside her.

"Some sunfisher, that black," he remarked.

She turned on him fiercely. "Keep still, can't you!" she said.

Kelton reddened; she did not see his face though, for she was watching
Calumet and the black.

The outlaw had not ceased his efforts. On the contrary, it appeared
that he was just beginning to warm to his work. Screaming with rage
and hate he sprang forward at a dead run, propelling himself with the
speed of a bullet for a hundred yards, only to come to a dizzying,
terrifying stop; standing on his hind legs; pawing furiously at the air
with his forehoofs; tearing impotently at the bit with his teeth,
slashing with terrific force in the fury of his endeavor.

Calumet's hat had come off during the first series of bucks. The grin
that had been on his face when he had got into the saddle back near the
corral fence was gone, had been superseded by a grimness that Betty
could see even from the distance from which she watched. He was a
rider though, she saw that--had se