wildfire-第31部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


race。　In　the　press　of　matters　he　had　only　a　word　for　Lucy；　but　that　earned　a
saucy；　dauntless　look。　He　was　glad　when　he　was　able　to　join　the　procession　of
villagers；　visitors；　and　Indians　moving　out　toward　the　sage。

The　racecourse　lay　at　the　foot　of　the　slope；　and　now　the　gray　and　purple　sage
was　dotted　with　more　horses　and　Indians；　more　moving　things　and　colors；　than
Bostil　had　ever　seen　there　before。　It　was　a　spectacle　that　stirred　him。　Many
fires　sent　up　blue　columns　of　smoke　from　before　the　hastily　built　brush　huts
where　the　Indians　cooked　and　ate。　Blankets　shone　bright　in　the　sun；　burros
grazed　and　brayed；　horses　whistled　piercingly　across　the　slope；　Indians　lolled
before　the　huts　or　talked　in　groups；　sitting　and　lounging　on　their　ponies；
down　in　the　valley；　here　and　there；　were　Indians　racing；　and　others　were
chasing　the　wiry　mustangs。　Beyond　this　gay　and　colorful　spectacle　stretched
the　valley；　merging　into　the　desert　marked　so　strikingly　and　beautifully　by
the　monuments。

Bostil　was　among　the　last　to　ride　down　to　the　high　bench　that　overlooked　the
home　end　of　the　racecourse。　He　calculated　that　there　were　a　thousand　Indians
and　whites　congregated　at　that　point；　which　was　the　best　vantage…ground　to　see
the　finish　of　a　race。　And　the　occasion　of　his　arrival；　for　all　the　gaiety；　was
one　of　dignity　and　importance。　If　Bostil　reveled　in　anything　it　was　in　an　hour
like　this。　His　liberality　made　this　event　a　great　race…day。　The　thoroughbreds
were　all　there；　blanketed；　in　charge　of　watchful　riders。　In　the　center　of　the
brow　of　this　long　bench　lay　a　huge；　flat　rock　which　had　been　Bostil's　seat　in
the　watching　of　many　a　race。　Here　were　assembled　his　neighbors　and　visitors
actively　interested　in　the　races；　and　also　the　important　Indians　of　both
tribes；　all　waiting　for　him。

As　Bostil　dismounted；　throwing　the　bridle　to　a　rider；　he　saw　a　face　that
suddenly　froze　the　thrilling　delight　of　the　moment。　A　tall；　gaunt　man　with
cavernous　black　eyes　and　huge；　drooping　black　mustache　fronted　him　and　seemed
waiting。　Cordts！　Bostil　had　forgotten。　Instinctively　Bostil　stood　on　guard。
For　years　he　had　prepared　himself　for　the　moment　when　he　would　come　face　to
face　with　this　noted　horse…thief。

〃Bostil；　how　are　you？〃　said　Cordts。　He　appeared　pleasant；　and　certainly
grateful　for　being　permitted　to　come　there。　From　his　left　hand　hung　a　belt
containing　two　heavy　guns。

〃Hello；　Cordts；〃　replied　Bostil；　slowly　unbending。　Then　he　met　the　other's
proffered　hand。

〃I've　bet　heavy　on　the　King；〃　said　Cordts。

For　the　moment　there　could　have　been　no　other　way　to　Bostil's　good　graces；　and
this　remark　made　the　gruff　old　rider's　hard　face　relax。

〃Wal；　I　was　hopin'　you'd　back　some　other　hoss；　so　I　could　take　your　money；〃
replied　Bostil。

Cordts　held　out　the　belt　and　guns　to　Bostil。　〃I　want　to　enjoy　this　race；〃　he
said；　with　a　smile　that　somehow　hinted　of　the　years　he　had　packed　those　guns
day　and　night。

〃Cordts；　I　don't　want　to　take　your　guns；〃　replied　Bostil；　bluntly。　〃I've　taken
your　word　an'　that's　enough。〃

〃Thanks；　Bostil。　All　the　same；　as　I'm　your　guest　I　won't　pack　them；〃　returned
Cordts；　and　he　hung　the　belt　on　the　horn　of　Bostil's　saddle。　〃Some　of　my　men
are　with　me。　They　were　all　right　till　they　got　outside　of　Brackton's　whisky。
But　now　I　won't　answer　for　them。〃

〃Wal；　you're　square　to　say　thet；〃　replied　Bostil。　〃An'　I'll　run　this　race　an'
answer　for　everybody。〃

Bostil　recognized　Hutchinson　and　Dick　Sears；　but　the　others　of　Cordts's　gang
he　did　not　know。　They　were　a　hard…looking　lot。　Hutchinson　was　a　spare；
stoop…shouldered；　red…faced；　squinty…eyed　rider；　branded　all　over　with　the
marks　of　a　bad　man。　And　Dick　Sears　looked　his　notoriety。　He　was　a　little　knot
of　muscle；　short　and　bow…legged；　rough　in　appearance　as　cactus。　He　wore　a
ragged　slouch…hat　pulled　low　down。　His　face　and　stubby　beard　were
dust…colored；　and　his　eyes　seemed　sullen；　watchful。　He　made　Bostil　think　of　a
dusty；　scaly；　hard；　desert　rattlesnake。　Bostil　eyed　this　right…hand　man　of
Cordts's　and　certainly　felt　no　fear　of　him；　though　Sears　had　the　fame　of　swift
and　deadly　skill　with　a　gun。　Bostil　felt　that　he　was　neither　afraid　nor　loath
to　face　Sears　in　gun…play；　and　he　gazed　at　the　little　horse…thief　in　a　manner
that　no　one　could　mistake。　Sears　was　not　drunk；　neither　was　he　wholly　free
from　the　unsteadiness　caused　by　the　bottle。　Assuredly　he　had　no　fear　of　Bostil
and　eyed　him　insolently。　Bostil　turned　away　to　the　group　of　his　riders　and
friends；　and　he　asked　for　his　daughter。

〃Lucy's　over　there；〃　said　Farlane；　pointing　to　a　merry　crowd。

Bostil　waved　a　hand　to　her；　and　Lucy；　evidently　mistaking　his　action；　came
forward；　leading　one　of　her　ponies。　She　wore　a　gray　blouse　with　a　red　scarf；
and　a　skirt　over　overalls　and　boots。　She　looked　pale；　but　she　was　smiling；　and
there　was　a　dark　gleam　of　excitement　in　her　blue　eyes。　She　did　not　have　on　her
sombrero。　She　wore　her　hair　in　a　braid；　and　had　a　red　band　tight　above　her
forehead。　Bostil　took　her　in　all　at　a　glance。　She　meant　business　and　she
looked　dangerous。　Bostil　knew　once　she　slipped　out　of　that　skirt　she　could
ride　with　any　rider　there。　He　saw　that　she　had　become　the　center　toward　which
all　eyes　shifted。　It　pleased　him。　She　was　his；　like　her　mother；　and　as
beautiful　and　thoroughbred　as　any　rider　could　wish　his　daughter。

〃Lucy；　where's　your　hoss？〃　he　asked；　curiously。

〃Never　you　mind；　Dad。　I'll　be　there　at　the　finish；〃　she　replied。

〃Red's　your　color　for　to…day；　then？〃　he　questioned；　as　he　put　a　big　hand　on
the　bright…banded　head。

She　nodded　archly。

〃Lucy；　I　never　thought　you'd　flaunt　red　in　your　old　Dad's　face。　Red；　when　the
color　of　the　King　is　like　the　sage　out　yonder。　You've　gone　back　on　the　King。〃

〃No；　Dad；　I　never　was　for　Sage　King；　else　I　wouldn't　wear　red　to…day。〃

〃Child；　you　sure　mean　to　run　in　this　racethe　big　one？〃

〃Sure　and　certain。〃

〃Wal；　the　only　bitter　drop　in　my　cup　to…day　will　be　seein'　you　get　beat。　But
if　you　ran　second　I'll　give　you　a　present　thet'll　make　the　purse　look　sick。〃

Even　the　Indian　chiefs　were　smiling。　Old　Horse；　the　Navajo；　beamed　benignly
upon　this　daughter　of　the　friend　of　the　Indians。　Silver；　his　brother
chieftain；　nodded　as　if　he　understood　Bostil's　pride　and　regret。　Some　of　the
young　riders　showed　their　hearts　in　their　eyes。　Farlane　tried　to　look
mysterious；　to　pretend　he　was　in　Lucy's　confidence。

〃Lucy；　if　you　are　really　goin'　to　race　I'll　withdraw　my　hoss　so　you　can　win；〃
said　Wetherby；　gallantly。

Bostil's　sonorous　laugh　rolled　down　the　slope。

〃Miss　Lucy；　I　sure　hate　to　run　a　hoss　against　yours；〃　said　old　Cal　Blinn。　Then
Colson；　Sticks；　Burthwait；　the　other　principals；　paid　laughing　compliments　to
the　bright…haired　girl。

Bostil　enjoyed　this　hugely　until　he　caught　the　strange　intensity　of　regard　in
the　cavernous　eyes　of　Cordts。　That　gave　him　a　shock。　Cordts　had　long　wanted
this　girl　as　much　probably　as　he　wanted　Sage　King。　There　were　dark　and
terrible　stories　that　stained　the　name　of　Cordts。　Bostil　regretted　his　impulse
in　granting　the　horse…thief　permission　to　attend　the　races。　Sight　of　Lucy's
fair；　sweet　face　might　inflame　this　Cordtsthis　Kentuckian　who　had　boasted　of
his　love　of　horses　and　women。　Behind　Cordts　hung　the　little　dust…colored
Sears；　like　a　coiled　snake；　ready　to　strike。　Bostil　felt　stir　in　him　a
long…dormant　firea　stealing　along　his　veins；　a　passion　he　hated。

〃Lucy；　go　back　to　the　women　till　you're　ready　to　come　out　on　your　hoss；〃　he
said。　〃An'　mind　you；　be　careful　to…day！〃

He　gave　her　a　meaning　glance；　which　she　understood　perfectly；　he　saw；　and　then
he　turned　to　start　the　day's　sport。

The　Indian　races　run　in　twos　and　threes；　and　on　up　to　a　number　that　crowded
the　racecourse；　the　betting　and　yelling　and　running；　the　wild　and　plunging
mustangs；　the　heat　and　dust　and　pounding　of　hoofs；　the　excited　betting；　the
surprises　and　defeats　and　victories；　the　trial　tests　of　the　principals；
jealously　keeping　off　to　themselves　in　the　sage；　the　endless　moving；　colorful
procession；　gaudy　and　swift　and　thrillingall　these　Bostil　loved
tremendously。

But　they　were　as　nothing　to　what　they　gradually　worked　up　tothe　climaxthe
great　race。

It　was　afternoon　when　all　was　ready　for　this　race；　and　the　sage　was　bright
gray　in　the　westering　sun。　Everybody　was　resting；　waiting。　The　tense　quiet　of
the　riders　seemed　to　settle　upon　the　whole　assemblage。　Only　the　thoroughbreds
were　restless。　They　quivered　and　stamped　and　tossed　their　small；　fine　heads。
They　knew　what　was　going　to　happen。　They　wanted　to　run。　Blacks；　bays；　and
whites　were　the　predominating　colors；　and　the　horses　and　mustangs　were　alike
in　those　points　of　race　and　speed　and　spirit　that　proclaimed　them
thoroughbreds。

Bostil　himself　took　the　covering　off　his　favorite。　Sage　King　was　on　edge。　He
stood　out　strikingly　in　contrast　with　the　other　horses。　His　sage…gray　body　was
as　sleek　and　shiny　as　satin。　He　had　been　trained　to　the　hour。　He　tossed　his
head　as　he　champed　the　bit；　and　every　moment　his　muscles　rippled　under　his
fine　skin。　Proud；　mettlesome；　beautiful！

Sage　King　was　the　favorite　in　the　betting；　the　Indians；　who　were　ardent
gamblers；　plunging　heavily　on　him。

Bostil　saddled　the　horse　and　was　long　at　the　task。

Van　stood　watching。　He　was　pale　and　nervous。　Bostil　saw　this。

〃Van；〃　he　said；　〃it's　your　race。〃

The　rider　reached　a　quick　hand　for　bridle　and　horn；　and　when　his　foot　touched
the　stirrup　Sage　King　was　in　the　air。　He　came　down；　springy…quick；　graceful；
and　then　he　pranced　into　line　with　the　other　horses。

Bostil　waved　his　hand。　Then　the　troop　of　riders　and　racers　headed　for　the
starting…point；　two　miles　up　the　valley。　Macomber　and　Blinn；　with　a　rider　and
a　Navajo；　were　up　there　as　the　official　starters　of　the　day。

Bostil's　eyes　glistened。　He　put　a；　friendly　hand　on　Cordts's　shoulder；　an
action　which　showed　the　stress　of　the　moment。　Most　of　the　men　crowded　around
Bostil。　Sears　and　Hutchinson　hung　close　to　Cordts。　And　Holley；　keeping　near
his　employer；　had　keen　eyes　for　other　things　than　horses。

Suddenly　he　touched　Bostil　and　pointed　down　the　slope。　〃There's　Lucy；〃　he
said。　〃She's　ridin'　out　to　join　the　bunch。〃

〃Lucy！　Where？　I'd　forgotten　my　gir