From a Photograph.
The rest of the twenty-five starters were scattered along forty miles of road to the rear. Most of them slept at Granger the first night, and one or two dropped out of the race at that point, it being already plain that their horses were overmatched. Most of the riders, however, accepted philosophically the fact that Teddy and Archie had so long a lead.
"It's a long trip to Denver, and I reckon we'll see them boys again before we drop in there," they told each other cheerfully.
The leaders reached Rock Springs about breakfast time. Teddy was still jogging along easily with long strides, but Archie was already labouring a little to hold his own. All along the route were veterinary surgeons to examine the condition of the horses and put them out of the race if necessary. Those looking over the couple now were of opinion that they were setting too hot a pace to last.
"If I were a betting man I would put my money on one of those horses back with the bunch," said one of the examiners confidently.
The next stretch led to Point of Rocks, over a road which had a good deal of sand. Teddy's steady trot ploughed right through it, and Archie had to break into occasional lopes to stay with the big broncho. After Point of Rocks came more sand, and still more. The Red Desert tried the horses, for at every step they sank down into the loose, thick sand, and Archie began to fall back, unable to stand the punishment of the gruelling pace. At Bitter Creek Workman was riding alone, and he was still alone when he rode into Wamsutter close on eleven o'clock, having covered a hundred and ninety-two miles in two days. Considering the heavy roads, his mount had done wonders. All over Wyoming people threw up their hats for the local horse when the news was flashed over the wires that Teddy led by a good many miles. But the veterinaries were still shaking their heads.
"Too fast! Too fast! Teddy will blow up like the Archie horse," they predicted, sagely.
It was an hour past noon when Charlie Workman rode into Rawlins next day, fifty miles nearer the end of his journey. He was followed a few hours later by "Old Man" Kern, on Dex. Kern was a man over fifty and the oldest in the race, but as hardy a pioneer as one would meet in a long day's journey. He was an ex-cow-puncher, ex-sheriff, ex-ranchman, and what he didn't know about horses was not worth knowing. After Kern came "Wild Jim" Edwards, a miner, from Diamondville, Wyoming, followed by Means and McClelland, both of Colorado. Trew was sixth, and after Trew came Casto, though some of these did not get in till next morning. Meanwhile Workman and his horse were eighteen miles farther on the road, in spite of the fact that they had been caught in a driving sleet storm and had lost the way. He put up for the night at Fort Steele, having made an average of ninety miles a day, and crossed the "Continental Divide" of the Rockies into the bargain. It was agreed on every hand that the wiry little man from Cody had a remarkable animal. The horse, however, was irritable, ate badly, and appeared to be nervous.
On the other hand, the steeds of some of the riders in the rear were still fresh. Jay Bird, Sam, Dex, Sorrel Clipper, Cannonball, and Buck, ridden respectively by Rolla Means, "Dode" Wykert, Kern, Edwards, Lee, and Wilcox, all showed up well. A good many were looking for Means's thoroughbred, Jay Bird, to romp home a winner. Others noticed that Wykert and Lee, though they were fifty miles behind the pacemaker, came in each night as fresh as if they had merely been out for an exercise canter.
