“For fear the innocents will lose their money?”
asked Bud.
“Yes. I don’t want to be a party
to robbing those fellows.”
“Don’t you worry. If you want to
punish Norris and his friends, don’t interfere.
Let it go on, I tell you. They’ll be the
worst-beaten lot o’ crooks that ever robbed
a town.”
“All right, Bud, if you say so.”
It was now time for the race of the day, and Bud and
Norris marked off the course.
Ben was appointed judge, with a large man, apparently
a stranger in the town, who was chosen by Norris,
and the two selected a third.
The third man was a stranger to Ben, but he picked
him out of the crowd, and the other judge accepted
him.
As Stella climbed into the saddle, Hatrack gave two
or three kittenish jumps, and the crowd yelled.
It had not expected this added feature to the race,
a girl jockey.
Shout after shout went up as she rode over the course
slowly, Hatrack having settled down into his usual
dejected manner. The cheers and some of the jeers
that greeted him came from the men who had been induced
to bet on him.
“Now, Stella,” said Bud, as Stella rode
back again, “when you start, shout ‘Vamose!’
in Hatrack’s ear. That’s the word
he has always been sent away with. Stick tight,
an’ let him go. Don’t forget the word
‘Vamose!’”
The great Chiquita.
Hatrack and Magpie were now brought up to the starting
point.
The boy who traveled with old man Norris was on the
back of the latter horse, sitting in a regular jockey’s
saddle and stripped of all superfluous clothing.
He was the typical jockey now. He had put away
all the appearance of youth, and was a crafty and
sly man.
It was apparent that the whole outfit was in the racing
business, and as the crowd looked at the discrepancy
between the two horses, and observed that on the best-looking
horse was a professional jockey, while on the crowbait
was only a girl, something like a groan went up.
But some of them were game, and cheered Stella to
the echo.
“You’re all right!” shouted her
supporters.
“Hurrah fer ther girl jockey,” yelled
the cow-punchers. “I got a month’s
wages that says she’ll win the race.”
But the other side had something to say, also.
They made all sorts of fun of Hatrack, and roars of
laughter went up as he ambled, stiff-legged, onto
the course.
Clay Whipple was chosen to start the race, and stood
beside the track with a red flag in his hand.
The two horses were jockeyed back and forth for several
minutes.
“Are you ready?” shouted Clay, as they
came up.
“No!” shouted Stella.
“No!” answered the jockey.
Back again they went, and came up neck and neck, the
riders nodding to Clay.
“Go!” cried Clay, bringing down the red
flag with a swish through the air.
