A Rescue
As Lefty and Alkali both knew well, Tanglefoot was a wild bronco which
had brought the downfall of more than one ambitious rodeo rider. If
Connie were able to handle him she might win the grand prize, but even
the two cowboys doubted that she had the skill.
Connie was the fifth rider. Before her there were three local girls
whose riding while good was not particularly colorful. The fourth
contestant, Enid Bradshaw, by far outpointed her opponents. She knew she
had done well and a satisfied smile played over her face as she left the
arena.
"I'll have to ride as I never did before if I beat that!" thought
Connie.
Her turn came next. She mounted Tanglefoot from the fence.
"Let her go!"
As the shout went up, the gate flew open, and out streaked the roan,
landing with a running buck in the midst of the judges, forcing them to
wheel their horses.
A ripple of comment passed over the crowd. Here was a girl who could
ride!
Tanglefoot, too, acted as if he were surprised. For a moment he seemed
to be debating the disgrace of his failure to dislodge his fair rider.
Then the wiry little mustang went into a veritable paroxysm of bucking.
Connie never knew that seconds could spin out to such an interminable
length. The horse leaped into the air, twisting his lithe body like an
ancient equine ancestor trying to shake off a puma or a jaguar from his
back. Down he would come, stiff-legged, and then rise again into the air
as if his muscles were made of spring steel.
From her waist up Connie held her body as relaxed as possible, at the
same time shifting her weight with lightning-like rapidity to preserve
her balance. Her torso remained vertical to the ground, regardless of
Tanglefoot's rapid maneuvers. Waving her hat with her rein-free hand,
the girl kept a graceful seat through it all. Tanglefoot's best was not
good enough.
Connie at last heard the timekeeper's pistol. The contest was over as
far as she was concerned. She felt that she had acquitted herself well
and she was sure of it when she heard the cheers of the crowd ringing in
her ears.
Leaping from Tanglefoot's saddle to the back of another horse led by the
hazer, she galloped in triumph from the ring.
"That was wonderful ridin'," Lefty told her proudly, a few minutes
later. "If you don't win the prize then the judges have been bought
off!"
Connie watched anxiously as four other girls took their turns in the
contest. One was thrown while the other three had drawn horses which did
not require a high degree of skill to ride.
"It's in the bag, Connie!" whispered Lefty excitedly.
And he was right. A few minutes later the announcer rode forth to
broadcast through his megaphone that Connie Carl had won first prize in
the riding contest.
"Oh, Lefty!" the girl cried, fairly overcome by her good fortune. "Just
think! Five hundred dollars! And maybe I'll win more before the day is
over."
Connie had entered her name in a free-for-all race as well as a roping
contest. In the latter event she placed third, netting a cash award of
fifty dollars. Second prize in the running race brought her an
additional two hundred dollars.
It was a proud moment for Connie when she stepped forward to claim her
ribbons and a slip of paper which represented seven hundred and fifty
dollars.
Jim Barrows, separating himself from the crowd, come over to the fence
to congratulate the girl.
"What will you do with so much money?" he asked jokingly.
"I could use six times as much!" Connie laughed. "I think I'll take it
home and hide it under the bed. I know one thing! Not a cent will be
deposited in the First National Bank."
"You don't trust the banker?" smiled the cowboy.
"He and I don't feel too friendly toward each other."
"Seriously though, Miss Carl, you're not thinking of carrying that money
on your person?"
"Why not?" asked Connie quickly. "I'll cash the check just before I
start for the ranch."
"Aren't you afraid someone might rob you?"
Such a thought had never even occurred to Connie.
"There hasn't been a holdup around here since the stagecoach stopped
running!" she laughed. "Besides, no one could ever get this money away
from me."
Jim Barrows said no more, but after chatting for a few minutes wandered
off again. It was the longest conversation he had ever carried on with
Connie.
"He really acted as if he were worried about my money," the girl
thought.
The rodeo was drawing to a close and already many persons were leaving
the stands. Connie's eye wandered over the crowd. She wondered what had
become of Pop Bradshaw and Enid. She had not seen the old rancher since
the bulldogging event, nor had the girl appeared to congratulate her
upon winning out in the bronco riding contest.
"In her heart I don't believe Enid really likes me," Connie told
herself. "And from now on it will be harder than ever for us to be
friends."
She turned her attention once more to the arena. Only one more event
remained on the day's program, an Indian race.
At the opposite side of the track she could see the ponies being lined
up. They were small, sleek, beautiful animals, so high spirited that
their riders had trouble holding them in position. The Indians
themselves, adorned with bright sashes, paint and feathers, added a
colorful note to the scene.
The start of the race was delayed and the crowd grew more impatient. An
increasing number deserted the stands, many leaving the bleachers to
crowd against the fence. A portion of it gave way causing a momentary
flurry of excitement.
"Back from the track, folks!" warned one of the guards, but when he
moved off a minute later, the crowd swarmed through the opening again.
No one noticed that a child, separated from its parents, stood alone
just inside the break of the fence.
Then at last the starter's pistol cracked and the racers were off! Down
the track in a cloud of dust came the ponies, their bareback riders bent
low as they urged their mounts to greater speed.
At that moment, the child, unaware of any danger, started to toddle
across the track. Midway to the other side the little girl saw the
oncoming horses and heard the thundering hoofs. Frozen by terror she
stopped and stood perfectly still.
"That child will be killed!" screamed a woman.
Before any of the guards could act, Connie slid down from the fence. The
racers were almost at the grandstand. With no thought for her own
safety, the girl darted out onto the track, directly in the path of the
onrushing horses.