His head was snapped back and then forward at every plunge. Still he
gripped the saddle with rigid knees. The outlaw bucked again, and flung
herself viciously sideways, turning completely round. Collie pitched
drunkenly as the horse came down again and again. His eyes were blurred
and his brain grew numb. Faintly he heard Brand Williams cry, "Two
minutes! Moonstone wins!" Then came a cheer. His gripping knees relaxed.
He reeled and all around him the air grew streaked with slivers of
piercing fire. He pitched headforemost at the feet of the group on the
veranda.
In a flash Louise Lacharme was beside him, kneeling and supporting his
head. "Water!" she cried, wiping his face with her handkerchief.
Boot-heels gritted on the parched earth and spurs jingled as the men
came running.
The pony, with hackamore dangling, raced across the plain toward the
hills.
"This'll do jest as well," said Williams, pouring a mouthful of whiskey
between Collie's lips. Then the taciturn foreman lifted the youth to his
feet. Collie dragged along, stepping shakily. "Dam' little fool!" said
Williams affectionately. "You ain't satisfied to get killed where you
belong, but you got to go and splatter yourself all over the front yard
in front of the ladies.
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