"You'll need lots of that," says one of the cowboys.
The saddle was on, the cinch reached for and drawed up to stay, and then the rider climbed over the poles of the chute and took his seat on a back that'd throwed the country's best riders. He pulled the rope rein up just tight enough, worked his feet ahead a little, and setting back some to sort of meet the first jolt. He took off his hat, layed all the balance he could in it, and then hollered:
"We're coming out."
"Coming out" was right, but "shot out" would of been more fitting in that case; anyway, the judges hardly seen either the horse or the man till both was out there, and both a fighting to win.—There was a mighty big surprise showing on all the faces around when as the first big cloud of dust cleared, it was noticed the rider was still up there, and what's more, all indicated that he was going to stay there.
The judges was a setting on their horses, and pop-eyed with the miracle of the performance looked on petrified. Such a rider on such a horse was seldom seen, and they was so all took up with the goings on, they didn't notice that the rider had rode past the limit, and forgot to fire the gun marking the end of the ride, then somebody hollered and jarred 'em out of the trance they was in.
He wasn't caring right then if it was said that he didn't ride the horse to the finish.