rter post.

They came up in a small whirlwind of speed and dust, and Smoky was under
the wire to his ears when Skeeter's nose showed beyond it. Little Lost
was jubilant. Jeff Hall and his backers were not.

Bud's three hundred dollars had in less than a minute increased to a
little over nine hundred, though all his bets had been moderate. By the
time he had collected, his pockets were full and his cocksureness had
increased to such an unbearable crowing that Jeff Hall's eyes were
venomous as a snake's. Jeff had been running to win, that day, and he
had taken odds on Skeeter that had seemed to him perfectly safe.

"I'll run yuh horse for horse!" he bellowed and spat out an epithet that
sent Bud at him white-lipped.

"Damn yuh, ride down to the quarter post and I'll show you some
running!" Bud yelled back. "And after you've swallowed dust all the way
up the track, you go with me to where the women can't see and I'll lick
the living tar outa you!"

Jeff swore and wheeled Skeeter toward the starting post, beckoning
Bud to follow. And Bud, hastily tucking in a flapping bulge of striped
shirt, went after him. At that moment he was not Bud, but Buddy in one
of his fighting moods, with his plans forgotten while he avenged an
insult.

Men lined up at the wire to judge for themselves the finish, and Dave
Truman rode alone to start them. No one doubted but that the start would
be fair--Jeff and Bud would see to that!

For the first time in months the rein-ends stung Smoky's flanks when he
was in his third jump. Just once Bud struck, and was ashamed of the blow
as it fell. Smoky did not need that urge, but he flattened his ears and
came down the track a full length ahead of Skeeter, and held the pace
to the wire and beyond, where he stopped in a swirl of sand and went
prancing back, ready for another race if they asked it of him.

"Guess Dave'll have to bring out Boise and take the swellin' outa that
singin' kid's pocket," a hardfaced man shouted as Jeff slid off
Skeeter and went over to where his cronies stood bunched and conferring
earnestly together.

"Not to-day, he needn't. I've had all the excitement I want; and I'd
like to have time to count my money before I lose it," Bud retorted.
"Next Sunday, if it's a clear day and the sign is right, I might run
against Boise if it's worth my while. Say, Jeff, seeing you're playing
hard luck, I won't lick you for what you called me. And just to show my
heart's right, I'll len