The riders were all betting the horse would throw the stranger. And Bostil, seeing the gathering might of Wildfire's momentum, agreed with them. No horseman could stick on that horse. Suddenly Wildfire tripped in the sage, and went sprawling in the dust, throwing his rider ahead. Both man and beast were quick to rise, but the rider had a foot in the stirrup before Wildfire was under way. Then the horse plunged, ran free, came circling back, and slowly gave way to the rider's control. Those few moments of frenzied activity had brought out the foam and the sweat—Wildfire was wet. The man pulled him in before Bostil and dismounted.
"Sometimes I ride him, then sometimes I don't," he said, with a smile.
Bostil held out his hand. He liked this rider. He would have liked the frank face, less hard than that of most riders, and the fine, dark eyes, straight and steady, even if their possessor had not come with the open sesame to Bostil's regard—a grand, wild horse, and the nerve to ride him.
"Wal, you rode him longer 'n any of us figgered," said Bostil, heartily shaking the man's hand. "I'm Bostil. Glad to meet you."
"My name's Slone—Lin Slone," replied the rider, frankly. "I'm a wild-horse hunter an' hail from Utah."
"Utah? How'd you ever get over? Wal, you've got a grand hoss—an' you put a grand rider up on him in the race.... My girl Lucy—"
Bostil hesitated. His mind was running swiftly. Back of his thoughts gathered the desire and the determination to get possession of this horse Wildfire. He had forgotten what he might have said to this stranger under different circumstances. He looked keenly into Slone's face and saw no fear, no subterfuge. The young man was honest.
"Bostil, I chased this wild horse days an' weeks an' months, hundreds of miles—across the canyon an' the river—"
"No!" interrupted Bostil, blankly.
"Yes. I'll tell you how later.... Out here somewhere I caught Wildfire, broke him as much as he'll ever be broken. He played me out an' got away. Your girl rode along—saved my horse—an' saved my life, too. I was in bad shape for days. But I got well—an'—an' then she wanted me to let her run Wildfire in the big race. I couldn't refuse.... An' it would have been a great race but for the unlucky accident to Sage King. I'm sorry, sir."