Perth Amboy evening news., 1922-01-30
CHAPTER /

|'A tpAsAt "a AAOa hhhts
condition of IL was warfare. Life
here had to protect itself with a
tough. callous rind. Only the fit
survived.
Around the campfire the drivers
of the trail herd squatted on their
heels or lay sprawled at indolent
ease. The glow of the leaping flames
from the twisted mesquite lit their
lean faces, tanned to bronzed health
by the beat of an untempered sun
and the sweep of parched winds.
Out of the soft shadows of the
summer night a boy moved from the
remuda toward the campfire. He
was a lean, sandy-haired young fell
low, his figure still lank and unfill-
ed. AS he sat down on the wagon
ance became noticeable.
A young man waved a hand to-
ward him by way of introduction.
Gents of the ID Bar Lazy r outfit,
Mr.. David Sanders, formerly of
Arizona, will make grafton on the
why, wherefore, and how-come-it of
Chiquito's superiority to all other
equines whatever"
I'D like right we'll to make love
to that pinto my W self, Bob"
commented a weather-beaten
puncher. ANY old time Dave wants
to saw him off onto me at sixty dol
lars I'm hnre to do business"
You're sure an easy mark, Buck"
grunted a large fat man. His white
face and soft hands differentiated
him from the tough range-riders.
He did not belong with the outfit,
but had joined it the day before
with George Doble, a half-brother
of the trail foreman, to travel with
it as far as MalIpi. He was known
as AID Miller.
Doble backed up his partner.
Sure are, Buck. / can get cow
ponies for ten and fifteen dollars
trived by the lift of his lip to make
the remark offensive.
MOT ponies like Chiquito," ven
tured Sanders amiably.
Hes some bronze" explained Bob
Hart. Got a bagful of tricks, a
nice disposition. and sure can burn
the wind"
You don't say" The voice of the
fat man was heavy with sarcasm.
And on top of all that education
he a run, too"
The temper of Sanders began 10
take an edge. Il don't claim my
pinto's a racer, but he can travel"
"Hmp!" grunted Miller skeptical-
ly.
Don't look to me like no racer"
Doble dissented. why. I'd be most
willin' to bet that pack-horse of
ours, Whiskey Bill, IA beat him."
Bob Hart helped things along.
I've got ten bucks says the pinto
can beat yore Whiskcy Bill"
Go you once" answered Doble
after a moments apparent consider
alton. II got fifty dollars more to
back the pack-horse. How about it.,
Sanders? You got the sand to
that? ?"
"Betcha a months pay-thirty-
five dollars, retorted Dave.
might as well lose a few bucks
myself, seeing as Whiskey Bill be-
longs to me-" said Miller with his
wheezy laugh. WHO wants to take
a whirl, boys?"
Inside of three minutes he had
placed a hundred dollars. The terms
of the race we're arranged and the
money put in the hands of the fore
man.
An hour later Buck Byington
drew Sanders aside.
Dave, you're a chuckle-haided
rabbit. If ever I seen tinhorn sports
them two is such. They're collectin'
a Twin offn suckers. Didn't you
sabe that me- stuff? Their
pack-horse is a ringer. Both of EN-
are crooked as a dogs hind laig."
"Maybeso." admitted the young
man. "But Chiquito never went back
me yet. These fellows may be
overplayin' their hand, don't you
Not a chanel. That tumblebug
is one fishy proposition, and
his sidekick Doble-say, he's the
kind of bird that shoots you in the
stomach while he's shakin' hands
with you. Me. 1 aim to button up
my pocket when them guys are
around"
CHAPTER II
\ A course was chosen for the race.
a selected point the horses
to run to a clump of mesquite.
round it. and return to the starting
place. Dug Doble was chosen both
and judge.
Dave watched Whiskey Bill with
the trained eyes of a horseman. The
animal vas an ugly brute as to the
head. But in legs and body it had
the fine lines OF a racer. Tho horse
was built for speed. The cowpunch-
er's heart sank. His bronco was
fast, but the little range pony had
not been designed to show its heels
to a near-thoroughbred.
Are you ready?" Doble asked of
the two men in the saddles.
His brother said, Let 'er go!"
Sanders nodded. The revolver bark
ed. :
Chiquito was off like a flash of
light, found it's stride instantly. Be-
fore it had covered seventy-five
yards the pinto was three lengths to
the good. Foot by foot the distance
between the horses lessened to two
lengths. to one, to half a length. The
ugly head of the ace came abreast
of the cowpuncher. With sickening
certainty the range-rider knew that
his Chiquito was doing the best that
was in it. Whiskey Bill was a faster
horse.
The halfway mark was just ahead.
The c~owpuncher knew exactly how
make the turn with the least pos
sible loss of speed and ground.
Scarcely slackening speed, he swept
the pinto round the clump of mes
quite and was off for home.
Dave was halfway back before he
was sure that the thud of Whiskey
hoofs was almost at his heels.
He called on the cowpony for a last
squirt. The plucky little horse an
the call, gathered itself for
the home stretch, for a moment held
It's advantage.
Then he knew that the bay was
running side by side with Chiquito.
The two horses raced down the
together, Whiskey Bill half
4 length in the lead and gaining Mt
every stride. Daylight showed be-
.ween them when they crossed the