Part 14 (2/2)

His wife restrained him as he started away.

”I feel confident that she can do--anything. She told me she could ride.”

”Well,” he replied resignedly, ”I always have left everything regarding girls to your judgment, so I suppose I must now, but I am surprised at you.”

The children were thrown into a state of excitement on deciphering Pen's part in the coming feats.

A bugle sounded.

Into the ring rode the four slim, young top riders of the ranch force, chaparajos and sombreros being much in evidence. They gave the usual stunts in the typical Western way on a track tramped as hard as asphalt, the tattoo of hoofs making the hard earth ring in the soundless atmosphere. Their feats, singly and together, were marvelous, but there was lacking to the onlookers the charm of novelty, as they had long been accustomed to these and similar exhibitions of horsemans.h.i.+p.

Everyone's heart beat a little faster with expectancy, therefore, when there came another blare of the trumpet. Into the ring came ”Miss Penny Ante,” slim and straight as a boy scout, clad in puttees, dark blue breeches and an olive-drab blouse.

A sleek, shy colt was suddenly inducted into the scene of action. Then there began a frisky game of maneuvers. The little, would-be rider proved as wary and nimble as the colt on which she finally succeeded in shooting a bridle. Another round of come and go, and one leg went over the slender neck, and then down the glossy back slid the lithe figure. With a wondering, protesting neigh, the colt tried all the tactics known to his species, but they were of no avail, and after circling and re-circling the ring, Pen calmly relinquished him and awaited the next offer.

A wild-eyed mustang was the victim. As soon as she was mounted, he rose high on his hind feet but came down like a lamb and ended in spinning like a top around the ring.

A general protest went up when a demoniacal-looking buckskin was produced.

”They are horse-mad!” exclaimed Kingdon. ”Margaret, this is going to stop right here.”

”Louis,” she replied earnestly, ”this is only horse-play to Pen. No, I am not punning. I didn't know she was going to make this exhibition, but some way I feel that she can easily live up to the promises in the program.”

With a plunge the buckskin went straight into mid-air and came down hard.

Then at full speed amid a whirling of dust, he tried all his tricks, but always the little figure held her position, easily triumphant, and finally the hitherto unmountable animal again came trembling to earth and obediently followed his rider's will.

”You've won!” cried the cowboys.

”Now, bring me a horse, a real saddle horse--the kind you give a kingdom for!” she demanded. ”I'd like to _ride_ a bit, if you don't mind.”

They brought her a beautiful thoroughbred. She rode around the ring a few times, and then, leaping the fence to the inclosure, was away and over the hills, her blood throbbing, her heart pounding as she felt the soft, southwest wind in her face, the siren song of freedom ringing in her ears.

The divine sweetness of the mountain air was in her nostrils. She was recalled from her state of rhapsody by the sound of pounding hoofs behind her. She half turned in her saddle, expecting to see Jo. She didn't need the commanding-toned ”Wait!” to rein in her horse.

There was an inscrutable look in the blazing eyes of the approaching horseman, a compelling force in his broad shoulders as he rode up to her.

”Where are you going?” he demanded.

”Nowhere. Just riding,” she replied.

Her uplifted face was vivid with joy, her eyes sparkling. Suddenly a wave of color suffused her cheeks.

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