For ten minutes the onlookers
were held spellbound by the fight before them, and then the horse
kicked and galloped away and Frenchy was picked up and carried from
the field.
"Too bad!" cried Buck, running from the outfit.
"Did yu see it?" asked Johnny excitedly, "Th' cinch busted." Another
horse was led out and Skinny Thompson vaulted to the saddle, and after
a fight of half an hour rode the animal from the enclosure to the
clamorous shouts of his friends. Lefty Allen also rode his mount from
the same gate, but took ten minutes more in which to do it.
The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped
forward: "First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten
seconds; second, Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven
seconds."
Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if
he had just won a championship. They made way for him, and Johnny, who
could not restrain his enthusiasm pounded him on the back and cried:
"Yu old son-of-a-gun!"
The announcer again came forward and gave out the competitors for
the next contest, steer-roping and tying. Lanky Smith arose and,
coiling his rope carefully, disappeared into the crowd. The fun was
not so great in this, but when he returned to his outfit with the
phenomenal time of six minutes and eight seconds for his string of ten
steers, with twenty-two seconds for one of them, they gave him
vociferous greeting.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266