The Coolidge examiner., 1931-07-31

and | didn't ask her. We were all
too keyed up, anyway, to make
sense. Oh, | forgot. She had on
a get-up that took the attention of
anyone that saw her, even in that
crazy mob. The better to cut the
wind, she had shortened sail and
wore a short skirt, black tights,
and a skullcap."
Here there was quite a lombard
ment of sound as silver spoons and
knives and forks were dropped
from shocked and nerveless femi-
nine Venable fingers.
"It turned out that the three of
US, there in the front line, were
headed down the old freighters'
trail towards the creek land.
said, I'll be the first in the Run to
reach Little Bear That was the
name of the creek on the section.
The girl pulled her cap down tight
over her ears. Follow me- she
laughed. I'll show you the way.
Then the old fellow with the wood
en- leg and the whiskers yelled out,
'WhOOp-eeI I'll tell 'em along the
Little Bear you're both a-comin.'
There we were, the girl on my
left, the old plainsman on my right.
Eleven forty-fve. Along the bor-
der were the soldiers, their guns in
one hand, their watches in the 9TH
er. Those last five minutes seemed
years long; and funny, they'd quiet
ed till there wasn't a sound. Listen
ing. The last minute was an eter-
nifty. Twelve o'clock. There w Mt
up roar that drowned the crack
of the soldiers musketry as they
fired in the air as the signal of noon
and the start of the Run. You
could see the puffs of smoke from
their guns, but you couldn't hear a
sound. The thousands surged over
the line. 1t was like water going
over a broken dam. We swept
across the prairie in a cloud of
black and red dust that covered our
faces and hands in a minute, so
that we looked like black demons
from hell. The old man on his pony
kept in one rut, the girl on her
thoroughbred in the other, and l on
my Whitefoot on the raised place in
the middle. That first half mile
was almost a neck-and-neck race
The old fellow was yelling and wav-
ing one arm and hanging on some
how. He was beating his pony with
the flask on his fianks. Then he
began TO drop behind. Next thing
heard a terrible scream and
great shouting behind me. | threw
a quick glance over my shoulder.
The old plainsman's pony had
stumbled and fallen. His bottle
smashed into bits, his six-shooter
flew in another direction, and he
lay sprawling full length in the rut
of the trail. The next instant he
was hidden in a welter of pounding
hOofs and flying dirt and cinders
and wagon wheels" A dramatic
pause. The faces around the table
were balloons pulled by single
string. They swung this way and
that with Yancey Cravat's pace as
he strobe the room, his Prince Al
bert coat tails billowing. This way
the faces turned toward the side
board. That way-they turned to-
ward the windows. Yancey held
the little moment of silence like a
jewel in the circlet of faces. Sabra
Cravat's voice, high and sharp with
suspense, cut the stiffness.
What happened? What hap
pened to the old man?"
Yancey's plant hands flew up in
a gesture of inevitability. "Oh, he
was trampled to death in the mad
mob that charged over him. Crazy.
They couldn't stop for a one-legged
old whiskers with quart flask"
Out of the well-bred murmur OF
horror that now arose about the
Venable board there emerged the
voice of Felice Venable, sharp
edged with disapproval. And the
girl. The girl with the black"
Unable to say it. Southern.
"The girl and funny, never
did learn her name-were in the
lead because we had stuck to the
old train. The girl was close be-
hind me. That thoroughbred she
rode was built for speed, not dis
tance. A race horse, blooded.
could hear him blowing. He was
trained to short bursts. My Indian
pony was just getting his second
wind as her horse slackened into a
trot. We had come nearly sixteen
miles. l was well in the lead by
that time, with the girl following.
We had left the others behind, hun
dreds going this way, hundreds
that, scattering for miles over the
prairie. Then | saw that the prairie
ahead was afire. The tall grass
was blazing. Only the narrow trail
down which we were galloping was
open. On either side of it was a
wall of flame. Some skunk of a
sooner, sneaking in ahead of the
Run, had set the blaze to keep the
boomers off, saving the land for
himself. The dry grass burned like
oiled paper. | turned around. The
girl was there, her racer stumbling,
breaking and going on, his head
lOlling now. l saw her motion with
her hand. She was coming. |
whipped off my hat and clapped it
over Whitefoot's eyes, gave him the
spurs, crouched down low and tight,
shut my own eyes, and down the
trail we went into the furnace. Hot!
1t was hi. l could smell the
singed hair on the fanks of the