"Yes."
"I'll give you fifty dollars to let me ride one in the Run."
"I can't risk it," said Jed. "I'll need them to work my farm."
The man moaned softly and went on to offer the next person with a horse
or mule fifty dollars to ride it in the Run.
"He'll get nothing," Pete said. "There isn't a saddle animal for sale or
rent the length of the border. What time is it, Jed?"
"Five minutes to twelve. We'd better get ready."
Jed turned to kiss his wife, and he tried to be very calm. But his hands
were trembling, and tears lurked in his eyes. He smiled at his children.
"Be good, and help your mother," he bade.
[Illustration]
Then Pete and Jed swung into their saddles as a great hush descended on
the border. All eyes were on the soldier who was to give the signal for
this section. He had stopped riding back and forth and was waiting. His
revolver was in his hand. As soon as the officer who was timing it
ordered the soldier nearest him to do so, that soldier would give the
signal. All the rest would pick it up and it would resound clear around
the border.
But it was not the soldier who shot.
It was a man down the line. Cindy saw him very plainly, and he shot a
full three minutes before high noon. But nothing could stop the
assembled home seekers now. They surged forward, and almost instantly
the Run formed a pattern. The lean, bearded man with the race horse shot
ahead of all the rest.
[Illustration]
"They're all Sooners now," Granny Brent said, chuckling. "Oklahoma, the
Sooner State."
"Oh!" Ann Simpson gasped.
She had turned to look at the wagon, and now she was rooted in her
tracks. Her face was white, her hands clasped to her cheeks. Forgotten
in the excitement, Jed's gun hung on a peg.
Cindy leaped forward. She snatched the gun, jerked Sparkle's reins
loose, mounted, and was away. Her mother's frantic "Cindy! Cindamine!
Come back!" was drowned in the thunder of hoofs and the rattle of
wagons.