Five minutes crawled slowly past and still Judd kept his seat, despite a series of bucks, plunges, side-steps, rearings, and sudden balks.
The manager clutched his watch nervously. No man had ever remained seated that long before and twenty-five dollars would eat into the night's profit.
"He can't last another five minutes," the manager told himself. "Throw yourself, Dynamite! Throw yourself!"
As if obeying orders Dynamite reared up and fell sideways.
"Look out, Rube!" shrieked the crowd.
"Gad!" cried Pole, "Look at that, will you?"
Judd had struck the ground with Dynamite but remained on top and when
Dynamite struggled to his feet Judd was still on his back.
"Nine minutes gone!" somebody yelled, "Stick to it, Rube! You've got the money, kid!"
Dynamite was raving wild now. No man had ever remained seated after a tumble like that! With a final snort of rage he dashed about the ring, jumping high in the air, bucking, twisting, turning. It was no use. Judd could not be shaken off.
"Time!" roared the crowd, hoarsely.