San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-04-13
CHAPTER ".
"why Don't You Run. Redstar"

why Don't You Run. Redstar?
Night lay soft on Paradise. Tree
toads talked at intervals and a cicada
shrilled its endless tune, while out IN
one of the gay-fringed hammocks
young Felicia, slim, and brown, u.s.
tened with downcast eyes to the
gentle voice of Arlas Gomez, also slim
and brown, pleading the ancient tale
in the ancient way.
In the great room of the deep adobe
house there were no candles lighted,
for though Fanita had come soft-foot-
ed to do that service, the master had
waved her away. John Harmon sat
in one of the big chairs with the
cushions and smoked the short pipe
that always rode in his inside pocket
or between his lips, and listened in
ineffable content to the gentle airs
that came softly from the ancient
keys under Belle lannon's fingers.
Stretched on a couch in the farth-
est corner, her slim length well-nigh
comprising it from end to end, her
sun-browned hands beneath her head.
Val lay and listened, too, though her
thoughts were not in the past but the
future-they had to do with the COM
ing dance at Hunnewell's store, and
with the gay bunch of riders from
the outlying ranches who would be
there in all their gala attire.
1t would be Fourth of July and
every cowpuncher who could straddle
cayuse would attend. There would
be races, and, as always, the Red
Brood would be there, too.
All. that is but Old Hotfoot, shut
out of the excitement by constant
motherhood-and Redstar the king.
Lightning would run away from all
and sundry as he had done for two
years now and Dawnlight, IL the mas
ter would put her up, would make a
speedy showing, and this year, for
the first time, the young matched rae
ers, Firebrand and The Flame, would
have their chance. Redcloud was get
ting a trifle old and she had over
heard some talk between the boss and
Tom Briston concerning his withhold
ing.
Poor Redcloud-wild and strong
and keen as the wind in spring!
Shesvisioned him, screaming in his
stockade, pounding the earth with his
shining hoofs, when the rest went off
to town-for the first time without
him!
She frowned in the dusk with a
quick sorrow for the old racers pass
ing.
Redstar now-Redstar the great
king--he would Craze placidly in his
green field and take no note of the
Red Brood's arrogance and pride as
they trotted away, each with a rider
in attendance.
He would not so much as raise his
splendid head, blink his soft eyes.
And yet Of them all he was the king
faster than their fastest, stronger
than their best.
Dad" Val said presently, when
there came lull in the tinkling mu-
sic while Belle Harmon hummed an
elusive melody the better to bring it
to her fingertips, "Dad-why have
you never run Redstar in the races?'
"Eh%
The ranchet took the pipe from his
lips suddenly and sat up in his chair.
His handsome dark eyes. so like Val's
own in one or two expressions, mar
| rowed in the darkness.
why do you ask me thatw
At the tone of his voice any one on
the rancho, save ana except these TWO
women. would have ceased to press
the conversation.
"Why, don't know" the daughter
answered calmly, Except that, keen
as you are on horseflesh and racing.
you've never let him run. And you
know. and know, that he can beat
aything under Gods heaven that ever
ran on these plains"
John Harmon put the pipe back be-
tween his lips.
Perhaps" he said, chats just tn
reason. He's too good"
The girl studied moment.
"That's so. There's nothing to run
with him-not in a mile-nor a thou
sand miles And he'd dwarf the Red
Brood down to nothing. Yes-I see.
She lay silent, thinking, while the
elusive melody, caught in Belle Han
mons pale fingers, came tinkling forth
in the twilight.
At the end Of an hour Of perfect
quiet. save for the old pianos voice