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A smile was beginning to change the hardness of his face。 〃Yes； Lucy；〃 he
said。
〃And I'll HAVE to ride him？〃
〃You sure willif he's ever to beat the King。〃
Lucy's eyes flashed blue。 She saw the crowdthe curious； friendly
Indiansthe eager ridersthe spirited horsesthe face of her father and
last the race itself； such a race as had never been ran； so swift； so fierce；
so wonderful。
〃Then Lin；〃 began Lucy； with a slowly heaving breast； 〃if I accept Wildfire
will you keep him for meuntil 。 。 。 and if I accept him； and tell you why；
will you promise to say〃
〃Don't ask me again！〃 interrupted Slone； hastily。 〃I WILL speak to Bostil。〃
〃Wait； will you 。 。 。 promise not to say a worda single word to ME till
after the race？〃
〃A wordto you！ What about？〃 he queried； wonderingly。 Something in his eyes
made Lucy think of the dawn。
〃AbouttheBecauseWhy； I'mI'll accept your horse。〃
〃Yes；〃 he replied； swiftly。
Lucy settled herself in the saddle and； shortening the bridle； she got ready
to spur Sarchedon into a bolt。
〃Lin； I'll accept Wildfire because I love you。〃
Sarchedon leaped forward。 Lucy did not see Slone's face nor hear him speak。
Then she was tearing through the sage； out past the whistling Wildfire； with
the wind sweet in her face。 She did not look back。
CHAPTER XI
All through May there was an idea； dark and sinister； growing in Bostil's
mind。 Fiercely at first he had rejected it as utterly unworthy of the man he
was。 But it returned。 It would not be denied。 It was fostered by singular and
unforeseen circumstances。 The meetings with Creech； the strange； sneaking
actions of young Joel Creech； and especially the gossip of riders about the
improvement in Creech's swift horsethese things appeared to loom larger and
larger and to augment in Bostil's mind the monstrous idea which he could not
shake off。 So he became brooding and gloomy。
It appeared to be an indication of his intense preoccupation of mind that he
seemed unaware of Lucy's long trips down into the sage。 But Bostil had
observed them long before Holley and other riders had approached him with the
information。
〃Let her alone；〃 he growled to his men。 〃I gave her orders to train the King。
An' after Van got well mebbe Lucy just had a habit of ridin' down there。 She
can take care of herself。〃
To himself； when alone； Bostil muttered： 〃Wonder what the kid has looked up
now？ Some mischief； I'll bet！〃
Nevertheless； he did not speak to her on the subject。 Deep in his heart he
knew he feared his keen…eyed daughter； and during these days he was glad she
was not in evidence at the hours when he could not very well keep entirely to
himself。 Bostil was afraid Lucy might divine what he had on his mind。 There
was no one else he cared for。 Holley； that old hawk…eyed rider； might see
through him； but Bostil knew Holley would be loyal； whatever he saw。
Toward the end of the month； when Somers returned from horse…hunting； Bostil
put him and Shugrue to work upon the big flatboat down at the crossing。 Bostil
himself went down； and he walkeda fact apt to be considered unusual if it
had been noticed。
〃Put in new planks；〃 was his order to the men。 〃An' pour hot tar in the
cracks。 Then when the tar dries shove her in 。 。 。 but I'll tell you when。〃
Every morning young Creech rowed over to see if the boat was ready to take the
trip across to bring his father's horses back。 The third morning of work on
the boat Bostil met Joel down there。 Joel seemed eager to speak to Bostil。 He
certainly was a wild…looking youth。
〃Bostil； my ole man is losin' sleep waitin' to git the hosses over；〃 he said；
frankly。 〃Feed's almost gone。〃
〃That'll be all right； Joel；〃 replied Bostil。 〃You see； the river ain't begun
to raise yet。 。 。 。 How're the hosses comin' on？〃
〃Grand； sirgrand！〃 exclaimed the simple Joel。 〃Peg is runnin' faster than
last year； but Blue Roan is leavin' her a mile。 Dad's goin' to bet all he has。
The roan can't lose this year。〃
Bostil felt like a bull bayed at by a hound。 Blue Roan was a young horse； and
every season he had grown bigger and faster。 The King had reached the limit of
his speed。 That was great； Bostil knew； and enough to win over any horse in
the uplands； providing the luck of the race fell even。 Luck； however； was a
fickle thing。
〃I was advisin' Dad to swim the hosses over；〃 declared Joel； deliberately。
〃A…huh！ You was？ 。 。 。 An' why？〃 rejoined Bostil。
Joel's simplicity and frankness vanished； and with them his rationality。 He
looked queer。 His contrasting eyes shot little malignant gleams。 He muttered
incoherently； and moved back toward the skiff； making violent gestures； and
his muttering grew to shouting； though still incoherent。 He got in the boat
and started to row back over the river。
〃Sure he's got a screw loose；〃 observed Somers。 Shugrue tapped his grizzled
head significantly。
Bostil made no comment。 He strode away from his men down to the river shore；
and； finding a seat on a stone； he studied the slow eddying red current of the
river and he listened。 If any man knew the strange and remorseless Colorado；
that man was Bostil。 He never made any mistakes in anticipating what the river
was going to do。
And now he listened； as if indeed the sullen； low roar； the murmuring hollow
gurgle； the sudden strange splash； were spoken words meant for his ears alone。
The river was low。 It seemed tired out。 It was a dirty red in color； and it
swirled and flowed along lingeringly。 At times the current was almost
imperceptible； and then again it moved at varying speed。 It seemed a petulant；
waiting； yet inevitable stream； with some remorseless end before it。 It had a
thousand voices； but not the one Bostil listened to hear。
He plodded gloomily up the trail； resting in the quiet； dark places of the
canyon； loath to climb out into the clear light of day。 And once in the
village； Bostil shook himself as if to cast off an evil； ever…present；
pressing spell。
The races were now only a few days off。 Piutes and Navajos were camped out on
the sage； and hourly the number grew as more came in。 They were building cedar
sunshades。 Columns of blue smoke curled up here and there。 Mustangs and ponies
grazed everywhere； and a line of Indians extended along the racecourse； where
trials were being held。 The village was full of riders； horse…traders and
hunters； and ranchers。 Work on the ranges had practically stopped for the time
being； and in another day or so every inhabitant of the country would be in
Bostil's Ford。
Bostil walked into the village； grimly conscious that the presence of the
Indians and riders and horses； the action and color and bustle； the near
approach of the great race…daythese things that in former years had brought
him keen delight and speculationhad somehow lost their tang。 He had changed。
Something was wrong in him。 But he must go among these visitors and welcome
them as of old； he who had always been the life of these racing…days must be
outwardly the same。 And the task was all the harder because of the pleasure
shown by old friends among the Indians and the riders at meeting him。 Bostil
knew he had been a cunning horse…trader； but he had likewise been a good
friend。 Many were the riders and Indians who owed much to him。 So everywhere
he was hailed and besieged； until finally the old excitement of betting and
bantering took hold of him and he forgot his brooding。
Brackton's place； as always； was a headquarters for all visitors。 Macomber had
just come in full of enthusiasm and pride over the horse he had entered； and
he had money to wager。 Two Navajo chiefs； called by white men Old Horse and
Silver； were there for the first time in years。 They were ready to gamble
horse against horse。 Cal Blinn and his riders of Durango had arrived； likewise
Colson； Sticks； and Burthwait； old friends and rivals of Bostil's。
For a while Brackton's was merry。 There was some drinking and much betting。 It
was characteristic of Bostil that he would give any odds asked on the King in
a race； and； furthermore； he would take any end of wagers on other horses。 As
far as his own horses were concerned he bet shrewdly； but in races where his
horses did not figure he seemed to find fun in the betting； whether or not he
won。
The fact remained； however； that there were only two wagers against the King；
and both were put up by Indians。 Macomber was betting on second or third place
for his horse in the big race。 No odds of Bostil's tempted him。
〃Say； where's Wetherby？〃 rolled out Bostil。 〃He'll back his hoss。〃
〃Wetherby's ridin' over to…morrow；〃 replied Macomber。 〃But you gotta bet him
two to one。〃
〃See hyar； Bostil；〃 spoke up old Cal Blinn； 〃you jest wait till I git an eye
on the King's runnin'。 Mebbe I'll go you even money。〃
〃An' as fer me； Bostil；〃 said Colson； 〃I ain't set up yit which hoss I'll
race。〃
Burthwait； an old rider； came forward to Brackton's desk and entered a wager
against the field that made all the men gasp。
〃By George！ pard； you ain't a…limpin' along！〃 ejaculated Bostil； admiringly；
and he put a hand on the other's shoulder。
〃Bostil； I've a grand hoss；〃 replied Burthwait。 〃He's four years old； I