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Updated: May 31, 2025
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!
Yet it was known by all that in the strangeness and perversity of his rider's nature he wanted Cordts to see the King win that race. It was his rider's vanity and defiance in the teeth of a great horse-thief. But no good would come of Cordts's presence that much was manifest. There was a moment of silence. All these men, if they did not fear Bostil, were sometimes uneasy when near him.
What would Bostil and Holley and Farlane say at sight of Wildfire? Suppose Wildfire was to enter the races! It was probable that he could run away from the whole field even beat the King. Lucy thrilled and thrilled. What a surprise it would be! She had the rider's true love of seeing the unheralded horse win over the favorite.
Bostil eyed the young man, wondering what he knew about the difficulties of the job offered. It was no news to Bostil that he was at once the best and the worst man to ride for in all the uplands. "Sure, I know. But thet doesn't make no difference," went on Bostil, persuasively. "If we got along wal, you'd save some of thet yellow coin you're jinglin'. A roamin' rider never builds no corral!"
Lucy says the King got into his stride. She knows. An' there Wildfire comes from behind an' climbs all over the King! ... Van tells a different story." "It came off just as Lucy told you," declared Slone. "I saw every move." "Wal, thet's neither here nor there. What you're up ag'in is this. Bostil is sore since you called him.
An' I'm not wantin' you to call me a liar twice. ... Put your rider up on the King an' come on, right now. I'll " "Slone, shut up an' chase yourself," interrupted Holley "You go to h l!" returned Slone, coolly. There was a moment's silence, in which Slone took Holley's measure. The hawk-eyed old rider may have been square, but he was then thinking only of Bostil.
"Lucy, to-morrow'll be the biggest day Bostil's Ford ever seen," he said. "It sure will be, Dad. The biggest SURPRISING day the Ford ever had," replied Lucy. "Surprisin'?" "Yes, Dad." "Who's goin' to get surprised?" "Everybody." Bostil said to himself that he had been used to Lucy's banter, but during his moody spell of days past he had forgotten how to take her or else she was different.
Bostil strode down and, waving and yelling for everybody to move back to the slope, he cleared the way and then stood out in front alone. "Ride up, now," he called to Lucy. It was then Bostil discovered that Lucy did not wear a spur and she had neither quirt nor whip. She turned Wildfire and he came prancing on, head and mane and tail erect.
For Bostil would never let that deed go unreckoned with. Like Bostil, old Creech was half horse and half human. The human side had warmed to remorse. He had regretted Lucy's plight; he wanted her to be safe at home again and to find happiness; he remembered what she had been to him when she was a little girl. Creech's other side was more complex.
"I reckon we couldn't get inside Brack's place now," remarked Bostil. "But in a case like this I can scare up a drink." Lights from the windows shone bright through the darkness under the cottonwoods. Bostil halted at the door, as if suddenly remembering, and he whispered, huskily: "Let's keep the women from learnin' about Sears to-night, anyway."
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