wildfire-第32部分

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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　girl！　。　。　。　Where？〃

〃There；〃　repeated　Holly；　and　he　pointed。　Others　of　the　group　spoke　up；　having
seen　Lucy　riding　down。

〃She's　on　a　red　hoss；　〃　said　one。

〃'Pears　all…fired　big　to　meher　hoss；〃　said　another。　〃Who's　got　a　glass？〃

Bostil　had　the　only　field…glass　there　and　he　was　using　it。　Across　the　round；
magnified　field　of　vision　moved　a　giant　red　horse；　his　mane　waving　like　a
flame。　Lucy　rode　him。　They　were　moving　from　a　jumble　of　broken　rocks　a　mile
down　the　slope。　She　had　kept　her　horse　hidden　there。　Bostil　felt　an　added　stir
in　his　pulse…beat。　Certainly　he　had　never　seen　a　horse　like　this　one。　But　the
distance　was　long；　the　glass　not　perfect；　he　could　not　trust　his　sight。
Suddenly　that　sight　dimmed。

〃Holley；　I　can't　make　out　nothin'；〃　he　complained。　〃Take　the　glass。　Give　me　a
line　on　Lucy's　mount。〃

〃Boss；　I　don't　need　the　glass　to　see　that　she's　up　on　a　HOSS；〃　replied　Holley；
as　he　took　the　glass。　He　leveled　it；　adjusted　it　to　his　eyes；　and　then　looked
long。　Bostil　grew　impatient。　Lucy　was　rapidly　overhauling　the　troop　of　racers
on　her　way　to　the　post。　Nothing　ever　hurried　or　excited　Holley。

〃Wal；　can't　you　see　any　better　'n　me？〃　queried　Bostil；　eagerly。

〃Come　on；　Holl；　give　us　a　tip　before　she　gits　to　the　post；〃　spoke　up　a　rider。

Cordts　showed　intense　eagerness；　and　all　the　group　were　excited。　Lucy's
advent；　on　an　unknown　horse　that　even　her　father　could　not　disparage；　was　the
last　and　unexpected　addition　to　the　suspense。　They　all　knew　that　if　the　horse
was　fast　Lucy　would　be　dangerous。

Holley　at　last　spoke：　〃She's　up　on　a　wild　stallion。　He's　red；　like　fire。　He's
mighty　bigstrong。　Looks　as　if　he　didn't　want　to　go　near　the　bunch。　Lord！
what　action！　。　。　。　Bostil；　I'd　saya　great　hoss！〃

There　was　a　moment's　intense　silence　in　the　group　round　Bostil。　Holley　was
never　known　to　mistake　a　horse　or　to　be　extravagant　in　judgment　or　praise。

〃A　wild　stallion！〃　echoed　Bostil。　〃A…huh！　An'　she　calls　him　Wildfire。　Where'd
she　get　him？　。　。　。　Gimme　thet　glass。〃

But　all　Bostil　could　make　out　was　a　blur。　His　eyes　were　wet。　He　realized　now
that　his　first　sight　of　Lucy　on　the　strange　horse　had　been　clear　and　strong；
and　it　was　that　which　had　dimmed　his　eyes。

〃Holley；　you　use　the　glassan'　tell　me　what　comes　off；〃　said　Bostil；　as　he
wiped　his　eyes　with　his　scarf。　He　was　relieved　to　find　that　his　sight　was
clearing。　〃My　God！　if　I　couldn't　see　this　finish！〃

Then　everybody　watched　the　close；　dark　mass　of　horses　and　riders　down　the
valley。　And　all　waited　for　Holley　to　speak。　〃They're　linin'　up；〃　began　the
rider。　〃Havin'　some　muss；　too；　it　'pears。　。　。　。　Bostil；　thet　red　hoss　is
raisin'　hell！　He　wants　to　fight。　There！　he's　up　in　the　air。　。　。　。　Boys；　he's　a
devila　hoss…killer　like　all　them　wild　stallions。　。　。　。　He's　plungin'　at　the
Kingstrikin'！　There！　Lucy's　got　him　down。　She's　handlin'　him。　。　。　。　Now
they've　got　the　King　on　the　other　side。　Thet's　better。　But　Lucy's　hoss　won't
stand。　Anyway；　it's　a　runnin'　start。　。　。　。　Van's　got　the　best　position。　Foxy
Van！　。　。　。　He'll　be　leadin'　before　the　rest　know　the　race's　on。。　。　。　Them
Indian　mustangs　are　behavin'　scandalous。　Guess　the　red　stallion　scared　'em。
Now　they're　all　lined　up　back　of　the　post。　。　。　。　Ah！　gun…smoke！　They　move。　。　。
。　It　looks　like　a　go。〃

Then　Holley　was　silent；　strained。　in　watching。　So　were　all　the　watchers
silent。　Bostil　saw　far　down　the　valley　a　moving；　dark　line　of　horses。

〃THEY'RE　OFF！　THEY'RE　OFF！〃　called　Holley；　thrillingly。

Bostil　uttered　a　deep　and　booming　yell；　which　rose　above　the　shouts　of　the　men
round　him　and　was　heard　even　in　the　din　of　Indian　cries。　Then　as　quickly　as
the　yells　had　risen　they　ceased。

Holley　stood　up　on　the　rock　with　leveled　glass。

〃Mac's　dropped　the　flag。　It's　a　sure　go。　Now！　。　。　。　Van's　out　there
frontinside。　The　King's　got　his　stride。　Boss；　the　King's　stretchin'　out！　。　。
。　Look！　Look！　see　thet　red　hoss　leap！　。　。　。　Bostil；　he's　runnin'　down　the
King！　I　knowed　it。　He's　like　lightnin'。　He's　pushin'　the　King　overoff　the
course！　See　him　plunge！　Lord！　Lucy　can't　pull　him！　She　goes
updowntossedbut　she　sticks　like　a　burr。　Good；　Lucy！　Hang　on！　。　。　。　My
Gawd；　Bostil；　the　King's　thrown！　He's　down！　。　。　。　He　comes　up；　off　the　course。
The　others　flash　by。　。　。　。　Van's　out　of　the　race！　。　。　。　An'；　Bostilan'；
gentlemen；　there　ain't　anythin'　more　to　this　race　but　a　red　hoss！〃

Bostil's　heart　gave　a　great　leap　and　then　seemed　to　stand　still。　He　was　half
cold；　half　hot。

What　a　horrible；　sickening　disappointment。　Bostil　rolled　out　a　cursing　query。
Holley's　answer　was　short　and　sharp。　The　King　was　out！　Bostil　raved。　He　could
not　see。　He　could　not　believe。　After　all　the　weeks　of　preparation；　of
excitement；　of　suspense　only　this！　There　was　no　race。　The　King　was　out！　The
thing　did　not　seem　possible。　A　thousand　thoughts　flitted　through　Bostil's
mind。　Rage；　impotent　rage；　possessed　him。　He　cursed　Van；　he　swore　he　would
kill　that　red　stallion。　And　some　one　shook　him　hard。　Some　one's　incisive　words
cut　into　his　thick；　throbbing　ears：　〃Luck　of　the　game！　The　King　ain't　beat！
He's　only　out！〃

Then　the　rider's　habit　of　mind　asserted　itself　and　Bostil　began　to　recover。
For　the　King　to　fall　was　hard　luck。　But　he　had　not　lost　the　race！　Anguish　and
pride　battled　for　mastery　over　him。　Even　if　the　King　were　out　it　was　a　Bostil
who　would　win　the　great　race。

〃He　ain't　beat！〃　muttered　Bostil。　〃It　ain't　fair！　He's　run　off　the　track　by　a
wild　stallion！〃

His　dimmed　sight　grew　clear　and　sharp。　And　with　a　gasp　he　saw　the　moving；　dark
line　take　shape　as　horses。　A　bright　horse　was　in　the　lead。　Brighter　and　larger
he　grew。　Swiftly　and　more　swiftly　he　came　on。　The　bright　color　changed　to　red。
Bostil　heard　Holley　calling　and　Cordts　callingand　other　voices；　but　he　did
not　distinguish　what　was　said。　The　line　of　horses　began　to　bob；　to　bunch。　The
race　looked　close；　despite　what　Holley　had　said。　The　Indians　were　beginning　to
lean　forward；　here　and　there　uttering　a　short；　sharp　yell。　Everything　within
Bostil　grew　together　in　one　great；　throbbing；　tingling　mass。　His　rider's　eye；
keen　once　more；　caught　a　gleam　of　gold　above　the　red；　and　that　gold　was　Lucy's
hair。　Bostil　forgot　the　King。

Then　Holley　bawled　into　his　ear；　〃They're　half…way！〃

The　race　was　beautiful。　Bostil　strained　his　eyes。　He　gloried　in　what　he
sawLucy　low　over　the　neck　of　that　red　stallion。　He　could　see　plainer　now。
They　were　coming　closer。　How　swiftly！　What　a　splendid　race！　But　it　was　too
swiftit　would　not　last。　The　Indians　began　to　yell；　drowning　the　hoarse
shouts　of　the　riders。　Out　of　the　tail　of　his　eye　Bostil　saw　Cordts　and　Sears
and　Hutchinson。　They　were　acting　like　crazy　men。　Strange　that　horse…thieves
should　care！　The　million　thrills　within　Bostil　coalesced　into　one　great
shudder　of　rapture。　He　grew　wet　with　sweat。　His　stentorian　voice　took　up　the
call　for　Lucy　to　win。

〃Three…quarters！〃　bowled　Holley　into　Bostil's　ear。　〃An'　Lucy's　give　thet　wild
hoss　free　rein！　Look；　Bostil！　You　never　in　your　life　seen　a　hoss　ran　like
thet！〃

Bostil　never　had。　His　heart　swelled。　Something　shook　him。　Was　that　his
girlthat　tight　little　gray　burr　half　hidden　in　the　huge　stallion's　flaming
mane？　The　distance　had　been　close　between　Lucy　and　the　bunched　riders。

But　it　lengthened。　How　it　widened！　That　flame　of　a　horse　was　running　away　from
the　others。　And　now　they　were　closecoming　into　the　home　stretch。　A　deafening
roar　from　the　onlookers　engulfed　all　other　sounds。　A　straining；　stamping；
arm…flinging　horde　surrounded　Bostil。

Bostil　saw　Lucy's　golden　hair　whipping　out　from　the　flame…streaked　mane。　And
then　he　could　only　see　that　red　brute　of　a　horse。　Wildfire　before　the　wind！
Bostil　thought　of　the　leaping　prairie　flame；　storm…driven。

On　came　the　red　stalliononon！　What　a　tremendous　stride！　What　a　marvelous
recovery！　What　ease！　What　savage　action！

He　flashed　past；　low；　pointed；　long；　going　faster　every　magnificent
stridewinner　by　a　dozen　lengths。



CHAPTER　XIII

Wildfire　ran　on　down　the　valley　far　beyond　the　yelling　crowd　lined　along　the
slope。　Bostil　was　deaf　to　the　throng；　he　watched　the　stallion　till　Lucy　forced
him　to　stop　and　turn。

Then　Bostil　whirled　to　see　where　Van　was　with　the　King。　Most　of　the　crowd
surged　down　to　surround　the　racers；　and　the　yells　gave　way　to　the　buzz　of　many
voices。　Some　of　the　ranchers　and　riders　remained　near　Bostil；　all　apparently
talking　at　once。　Bostil　gathered　that　Holley's　Whitefoot　had　ran　second；　and
the　Navajo's　mustang　third。　It　was　Holley　himself　who　verified　what　Bostil　had
heard。　The　old　rider's　hawk　eyes　were　warm　with　delight。

〃Boss；　he　run　second！〃　Holley　kept　repeating。

Bostil　had　the　heart　to　shake　hands　with　Holley　and　say　he　was　glad；　when　it
was　on　his　lips　to　blurt　out　there　had　been　no　race。　Then　Bostil's　nerves
tingled　at　sight　of　Van　trotting　the　King　up　the　course　toward　the　slope。
Bostil　watched　with　searching　eyes。　Sage　King　did　not　appear　to　be　injured。
Van　rode　straight　up　the　slope　and　leaped　off。　He　was　white　and　shaking。

The　King's　glossy　hide　was　dirty　with　dust　and　bits　of　cactus　and　brush。　He
was　not　even　hot。　There　did　not　appear　to　be　a　bruise　or　mark　on　him。　He
whinnied　and　rubbed　his　face　against　Bostil；　and　then；　flinching；　he　swept　up
his　head；　ears　high。　Both　fear　and　fire　shone　in　his　eyes。

〃Wal；　Van；　get　it　out　of　your　system；〃　said　Bostil；　kindly。　He　was　a　harder
loser　before　a　race　was　run　than　after　he　had　lost　it。

〃Thet　red　hoss　run　in　on　the　King　before　the　start　an'　scared　the　race　out　of
him；〃　replied　Van；　swiftly。　〃We　had　a　hunch；　you　know；　but　at　thet　Lucy's　hoss
was　a　surprise。　I'll　say；　sir；　thet　Lucy　rode　her　wild　hoss　an'　handled　him。
Twice　she　pulled　him　off　the　King。　He　meant　to　kill　the　King！　。　。　。　Ask　any　of
the　boys。　。　。　。　We　got　started。　I　took　the　lead；　sir。　The　King　was　in　the
lead。　I　never　looked　back　till　I　heard　Lucy　scream。　She　couldn't　pull
Wildfire。　He　was　rushin'　the　Kingmeant　to　kill　him。　An'　Sage　King　wanted　to
fight。　If　I　could　only　have　kept　him　runnin'！　Thet　would　have　been　a　race！　。　。
。　But　Wildfire