. . . 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
front--inside. 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 over--off the
course! See him plunge! Lord! Lucy can't pull him! She goes
up--down--tossed--but 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! .
Pages:
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315