The day of the race dawned bright and fair, without a cloud to
mar its splendor. As the golden morning wore on, a gradual
excitement became apparent among the cowboys, increasing as the
hours passed, and as they prepared with joy to invade their
rival's territory; nevertheless, the vigilant watch upon their
champion did not relax. Theirs was an attitude of confidence
tinged with caution.
It was some time after midnight that Lawrence Glass had been the
cause of a wild alarm that brought the denizens of the ranch out
in night apparel. Jack Chapin, awakened by a cry for help, had
found him in the hands of Carara and Cloudy, who had been doing
night duty in accordance with Stover's orders. What with the
trainer's loud complaints, the excited words of his captors, and
the confusion resulting when the bunk-house emptied itself of men
half clad, it had taken the ranch-owner some time to discover
that Glass had been surprised in the act of escaping. It seemed
that the sentries, seeing a figure skulking past the white adobe
walls of the house, had called upon it to halt. There had been a
dash for liberty, then a furious struggle before the intruder's
identity became clear, and but for Chapin's prompt arrival upon
the scene violence would inevitably have resulted. As it was, the
owner had difficulty in restraining his men, who saw in this
significant effort a menace to their hopes.
"I tell you, I'm walkin' in my sleep," declared Glass for the
twentieth time.
"_Caramba!_ You try for get away," stormed the Mexican.
"Pig!"
"Not a bit like it! I've been a sonnambulust ever since I'm a
baby."
"Why didn't you answer when we called?" Cloudy demanded.
"How can I talk when I'm sound asleep?"
"If you couldn't hear us call, why did you run?"
"Now have a little sense, pal. A sleep-walker don't know what
he's doin'."
"Since there's no harm done, you'd better all go back to bed,"
Chapin advised. "Mr. Glass has the liberty of the ranch, boys,
night or day, asleep or awake."
"Looks to me like he was tryin' to elope some." Stover balanced
upon one bare foot, and undertook to remove a sand-burr from the
other. In the darkness he seemed supernaturally tall, so that
Glass hastened to strengthen his story.
"I was walkin' in my sleep as nice as you please when those
rummies lep' on me. Say! You know that's dangerous; you can kill
a guy wakin' him up so sudden."
"There's easier ways than that," spoke Willie from the gloom.
"It's a yap trick just the same. I was in the middle of a swell
dream, too."
"Come, come, Stover, get your boys back to bed! We'll have the
whole ranch up with this noise."
Chapin himself led Glass around the house, while that gentleman
made no offer to explain the dream which had prompted him to pack
his suit-case before letting himself out of the training-
quarters. Once safely back in the gymnasium, he sat up till dawn,
a prey to frightful visions which the comfortable morning light
did not serve to dissipate.
Wally Speed slept serenely through the whole disturbance, and was
greatly amused at the story when he awoke. He was sorely tempted
to make known his agreement with Skinner, and put an end to his
trainer's agony of mind; but he recalled Skinner's caution, and
reflected that the slightest indiscretion might precipitate a
tragedy. For the first time since the beginning of the adventure
he was perfectly at ease, and the phenomenon added to his
trainer's dismay.
Others beside Lawrence Glass were apprehensive. Culver Covington,
for instance, was plainly upset, while Roberta Keap pleaded
headache and had her breakfast served in her room.
It was shortly afterward that she appeared in the gymnasium
doorway, and cried, in an accusing voice:
"Well, Mr. Speed!"
"Yes, quite well."
"You traitor!"
"You modern Borgia! Didn't you go and tell Helen everything?"
"Didn't you promise to stop Culver?"
"I did. I had him thrown in jail at Omaha. What more could I do?"
"You _did_ try? Honestly?" Mrs. Keap allowed her indignation
to abate slightly. "If I had known that, I wouldn't have told
Helen. I'm sorry you didn't explain. I was angry--furious. And I
was frightened so!" She broke down suddenly. "What shall I do
about them? I can see what they want to say, and yet I daren't
let either speak a word."
"Mrs. Keap, are you sure Culver loves you?"
"Horribly! And he suspects the truth. I saw him change the moment
he found me here." Roberta began to weep; two limpid tears stole
down her cheeks, she groped for a chair, and Wally hastened to
her assistance. As he supported her, she gave way completely and
bowed her head upon his shoulder.
It was in perfect keeping with the luck of things that Miss Blake
should enter at the moment. She had come with Jack and his sister
to inquire regarding the fitness of her champion and to nerve him
for the contest, and she stood aghast. Chapin stepped forward
with a look of suspicion, inquiring:
"What's going on here?"
Miss Blake spoke brightly, tinkling ice in her voice.
"There's no necessity for an explanation, is there? It seems time
for congratulations."
"Oh, see here now! Mrs. Keap's really engaged to Culver, you
know."
"Culver!"
"Culver!"
Both the young ranchman and his sister stared at the chaperon
with growing horror, while she undertook to explain; but the blow
had fallen so swiftly that her words were incoherent, and in the
midst of them her hostess turned and fled from the room.
"Now don't begin to aviate until you understand the truth," Speed
continued. "While she's engaged to that broken-toed serpent, she
doesn't love him, do you see?" He smiled.
"I do _not_ see!"
"It was simply a habit Mrs. Keap had got into--I should say it
was an impulsive engagement that she has repented of."
"No doubt she was repenting when we interrupted you," said Miss
Blake, bitterly.
Then Chapin added, helplessly: "But Culver is engaged to my
sister Jean!"
"Jean!" Mrs. Keap exposed her tragic face. "Then--he deceived
_me_! Oh-h! What wretches men are!" The widow commenced to
sob.
Outside came Miss Chapin's voice: "So here you are, Mr.
Covington!" And the next moment she reappeared, dragging the
crippled champion behind her. Thrusting him toward Roberta, she
pouted: "There, Mrs. Keap! I give him back to you."
"Perhaps you'd better go on with your explanations," Chapin
suggested, coldly, to Speed.
"How can I when you won't listen to me? Hear ye! Hear ye! Culver
was engaged to marry Mrs. Keap, but she discovered what a
reprobate he is--"
There was indistinguishable dissent of some sort from Mr.
Covington.
"--and she learned to detest him!"
Mrs. Keap likewise dissented in accents muffled.
"Well, she would have learned to detest him in a short time,
because she's in love with Jack Chapin; so she came to old Doctor
Speed in her troubles, and he promised to fix it all up. Now I
guess you four can do the rest of the explaining. Let this be a
lesson to all of you. If you ever get in trouble, come to the
match-making kid. I'll square it."
They were four happy young people, and they lost no time in
escaping elsewhere. When they had gone, their benefactor said to
Miss Blake:
"Wouldn't you like to make that a triple wedding? We might get
club rates."
For answer Miss Blake hurried to the door and was gone.
Over at the Centipede there was a great activity and yet a
certain idleness also, as if it had been a holiday. The men hung
about in groups listening to the peripatetic phonograph. A dozen
or more outsiders had ridden over from the post-office to witness
the contest. Out by the corral, which stood close to the first
break of the foot-hills, Skinner was superintending the laying
out of a course, selecting a stretch of level ground worn smooth
and hard by the tread of countless hoofs.
"Makes a pretty good track, eh?" he said to Gallagher. "I wonder
how fast this feller is? Ever heard?"
"They seem to think he's a whirlin' ball of fire, but that don't
worry you none, does it?" Gallagher bent his lead-blue eyes upon
the cook, who shrugged carelessly, and Gallagher smiled; he was
forced to admit that his man did not appear to be one easily
frightened. Skinner's face was hard, his lips thin, his jaw was
not that of a weakling. He had dressed early, then wrapped a
horse-blanket about his shoulders, and now, casting this aside,
sprinted down the dirt track for a few yards to test the footing,
while Gallagher watched him with satisfaction--a thing of steel
and wire, as tough, as agile, and as spirited as a range-raised
cow-pony. He was unshaven, his running-trunks were cut from a
pair of overalls, held up at the waist by a section of window-
cord, and his chest was scantily covered by an undershirt from
which the sleeves had been pulled. But when he returned to pick
up his blanket Gallagher noted approvingly that he was not even
breathing heavily. With a knowledge confined mainly to live-
stock, the foremen inquried:
"How's your laigs? I like to see 'em hairy, that-a-way; it's a
sign of stren'th. I bet this college boy is as pink as a maiden's
palm! He don't look to me like he could run."
"They fool you sometimes," said Skinner. "By-the-way, what have
you bet?"
"We laid the phonograph agin their treasures an' trappin's--"
"But how much money?"
"We got three hundred pesos down, but they sent word they was
comin' loaded for b'ar, so we rustled five hundred more."
Skinner's eyes gleamed. "I wish I had a couple of hundred to bet
on myself."
"Broke, eh?"
"I'm as clean as a hound's tooth."
"I'm sorry y'all tossed off your wages, but"--Gallagher started
suspiciously--"say! I reckon that won't affect your runnin' none,
will it?"
Skinner admitted that he could run best when he had something to
run for. "You might advance me a month's wages," he reflected.
"I'll do it. Hello! Say, ain't that one of them Flyin' Heart city
visitors?" From the direction of the ranch buildings Berkeley
Fresno was approaching.
"Good-afternoon! You are Mr. Gallagher, I believe? I rode over
with our crowd just now." Fresno looked back. "Let's step around
to the other side of the corral; I want to talk to you." He led
the way; then inquired, "Is this your runner?"
"That's him. His name's Skinner, and that's a promisin' title to
bet on." Gallagher slipped a roll of bank-notes from his pocket.
"Unhook! I'll bet you."
"No, no! I think myself Mr. Skinner will win. That's why I'm
here."
"Strip your hand, son. I don't savvy."
And Fresno explained.
"You see, I'm a guest over there; but there's no sentiment with
me in money matters." He produced a wallet, and took from it five
one-hundred-dollar bills. "Bet this for me, and don't let on
where it came from. I'll see you after the race. Mind you, not a
word!"
"I'm dumb as the Egyptian Spinks."
"This race means a lot to me, Mr. Skinner." The guest of the
Flying Heart Ranch turned to its enemy. "There's a girl in it.
Understand?" The cook showed the gleam of his teeth. "If you win,
I'll send you some wedding-cake and--a box of cigars."
"Thanks," said the other; "but I've got a bum tooth, and I don't
smoke."
As Fresno left, there approached, in a surging group, the
opposing side.
"Good-evenin', Gabby!" Stover called, loudly, as he came within
speaking distance. "Here we come _en massay_, and with
ladies, to further embarrass and degrade you in the hour of your
defeat!"
"We ain't defeated yit! How do, Mr. Chapin."
"Did you get our message?"
"Yes. But we ain't seen the color of y'all's money."
"Mr. Speed borrowed five hundred dollars from me, and said he
might want more," Chapin volunteered.
"Is that all?"
"All?" jeered Still Bill. "Why, this mangy layout ain't never saw
that much money," upon which Gallagher carelessly displayed a
corpulent roll of bills, remarking:
"Count a thousand, Bill. It all goes on Skinner."
"I ain't heard of no train-robbery," muttered the lanky foreman
of the Flying Heart, "nor I don't aim to handle no' tainted
money." And Stover and Gallagher faced each other hard before
turning.
Jean saw it, and whispered to Chapin: "Oh, Jack dear, I'm
terribly frightened!" But Helen Blake, who overheard, left her
companions and went straight to Gallagher.
"I should like," she said, "to wager a few dollars on Mr. Speed
and the honor of the Flying Heart."
Both Skinner and his foreman stared at her nonplussed.
"You don't look like a bettin' lady," the latter managed to
remark, jocularly.
"I'm not, I never made a wager before in all my life; but you
see, Mr. Gallagher, I believe in our man." Gallagher lowered his
eyes. "How much do you aim to risk, miss?"
"I don't know what the rules are, but I think our side ought to
bet as much as your side. That is the way it is done, isn't it?"
"You mean that you aim to cover what Mr. Speed don't?" The girl
nodded.
Gallagher spoke admiringly. "You're right game, miss, but I
reckon we don't want your money."
"Why not?"
"I suppose there ain't no partic'lar reason."
"If Mr. Speed can beat Mr. Covington, who is the best runner at
Yale, I'm sure he can defeat Mr. Skinner, who never went to
college at all. They have all turned against him, and he-he is so
brave!" Miss Blake's indignation was tearful, and Gallagher spoke
hurriedly:
"He may be brave all right, miss, but he can't win unless Skinner
dies. You save your money to buy chocolates an' bon-mots, miss.
Why, listen" (the stock man softened his voice in a fatherly
manner): "this Fresno party is wise; five hundred of this coin is
his."
Helen uttered a cry. "Do you mean he is betting _against_
Mr. Speed?"
"Nothin' else."
"Despicable!" breathed the girl. "Wait a moment, please!" Helen
hurried back to Chapin, while Gallagher muttered something like
"I ain't takin' no orphan's money."
"Jack!" (the girl was trembling with excitement), "you told me on
the way over that you had five hundred dollars with you. Let me
have it, please. I'll give you my check when we get home."
"My dear girl, you aren't going to--bet it?"
"Yes, I am."
"Don't do that!"
For answer she snatched the pocket-book from his hand.
"Mr. Gallagher!" she called.
Skinner watched from afar. "Some class to that gal!" was what he
said, which proved that he was a person not wholly without
sentiment.