wildfire-第34节

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〃Oh；　Dad；　why；　why　didn't　you　hurry　Creech's　horses　over？〃　said　Lucy；　with　her
tears　falling。

Something　tight　within　Bostil's　breast　seemed　to　ease　and　lessen。　〃Why　didn't
I？　。　。　。　Wal；　Lucy；　I　reckon　I　wasn't　in　no　hurry　to　oblige　Creech。　I'm　sorry
now。〃

〃It　won't　be　so　terrible　if　he　doesn't　lose　the　horses；〃　murmured　Lucy。

〃Where's　young　Joel　Creech？〃　asked　Bostil。

〃He　stayed　on　this　side　last　night；〃　replied　Van。　〃Fact　is；　Joel's　the　one　who
first　knew　the　flood　was　on。　Some　one　said　he　said　he　slept　in　the　canyon　last
night。　Anyway；　he's　ravin'　crazy　now。　An'　if　he　doesn't　do　harm　to　some　one　or
hisself　I'll　miss　my　guess。〃

〃A…huh！〃　grunted　Bostil。　〃Right　you　are。〃

〃Dad；　can't　anything　be　done　to　help　Creech　now？〃　appealed　Lucy；　going　close
to　her　father。

Bostil　put　his　arm　around　her　and　felt　immeasurably　relieved　to　have　the
golden　head　press　close　to　his　shoulder。　〃Child；　we　can't　fly　acrost　the
river。　Now　don't　you　cry　about　Creech's　hosses。　They　ain't　starved　yet。　It's
hard　luck。　But　mebbe　it'll　turn　out　so　Creech'll　lose　only　the　race。　An'；
Lucy；　it　was　a　dead　sure　bet　he'd　have　lost　thet　anyway。〃

Bostil　fondled　his　daughter　a　moment；　the　first　time　in　many　a　day；　and　then
he　turned　to　his　rider　at　the　door。　〃Van；　how's　the　King？〃

〃Wild　to　run；　Bostil；　jest　plumb　wild。　There　won't　be　any　hoss　with　the　ghost
of　a　show　to…morrow。〃

Lucy　raised　her　drooping　head。　〃Is　THAT　so；　Van　Sickle？　。　。　。　Listen　here。　If
you　and　Sage　King　don't　get　more　wild　running　to…morrow　than　you　ever　had　I'll
never　ride　again！〃　With　this　retort　Lucy　left　the　room。

Van　stared　at　the　door　and　then　at　Bostil。　〃What'd　I　say；　Bostil？〃　he　asked；
plaintively。　〃I'm　always　r'ilin'　her。〃

〃Cheer　up；　Van。　You　didn't　say　much。　Lucy　is　fiery　these　days。　She's　got　a
hoss　somewhere　an'　she's　goin'　to　ride　him　in　the　race。　She　offered　to　bet　on
himagainst　the　King！　It　certainly　beat　me　all　hollow。　But　see　here；　Van。
I've　a　hunch　there's　a　dark　hoss　goin'　to　show　up　in　this　race。　So　don't
underrate　Lucy　an'　her　mount；　whatever　he　is。　She　calls　him　Wildfire。　Ever　see
him？〃

〃I　sure　haven't。　Fact　is；　I　haven't　seen　Lucy　for　days　an'　days。　As　for　the
hunch　you　gave；　I'll　say　I　was　figurin'　Lucy　for　some　real　race。　Bostil；　she
doesn't　MAKE　a　hoss　run。　He'll　run　jest　to　please　her。　An'　Lucy's　lighter　'n　a
feather。　Why；　Bostil；　if　she　happened　to　ride　out　there　on　Blue　Roan　or　some
other　hoss　as　fast　I'dI'd　jest　wilt。〃

Bostil　uttered　a　laugh　full　of　pride　in　his　daughter。　〃Wal；　she　won't　show　up
on　Blue　Roan；〃　he　replied；　with　grim　gruffness。　〃Thet's　sure　as　death。　。　。　。
Come　on　out　now。　I　want　a　look　at　the　King。〃

Bostil　went　into　the　village。　All　day　long　he　was　so　busy　with　a　thousand　and
one　things　referred　to　him；　put　on　him；　undertaken　by　him；　that　he　had　no　time
to　think。　Back　in　his　mind；　however；　there　was　a　burden　of　which　he　was
vaguely　conscious　all　the　time。　He　worked　late　into　the　night　and　slept　late
the　next　morning。

Never　in　his　life　had　Bostil　been　gloomy　or　retrospective　on　the　day　of　a
race。　In　the　press　of　matters　he　had　only　a　word　for　Lucy；　but　that　earned　a
saucy；　dauntless　look。　He　was　glad　when　he　was　able　to　join　the　procession　of
villagers；　visitors；　and　Indians　moving　out　toward　the　sage。

The　racecourse　lay　at　the　foot　of　the　slope；　and　now　the　gray　and　purple　sage
was　dotted　with　more　horses　and　Indians；　more　moving　things　and　colors；　than
Bostil　had　ever　seen　there　before。　It　was　a　spectacle　that　stirred　him。　Many
fires　sent　up　blue　columns　of　smoke　from　before　the　hastily　built　brush　huts
where　the　Indians　cooked　and　ate。　Blankets　shone　bright　in　the　sun；　burros
grazed　and　brayed；　horses　whistled　piercingly　across　the　slope；　Indians　lolled
before　the　huts　or　talked　in　groups；　sitting　and　lounging　on　their　ponies；
down　in　the　valley；　here　and　there；　were　Indians　racing；　and　others　were
chasing　the　wiry　mustangs。　Beyond　this　gay　and　colorful　spectacle　stretched
the　valley；　merging　into　the　desert　marked　so　strikingly　and　beautifully　by
the　monuments。

Bostil　was　among　the　last　to　ride　down　to　the　high　bench　that　overlooked　the
home　end　of　the　racecourse。　He　calculated　that　there　were　a　thousand　Indians
and　whites　congregated　at　that　point；　which　was　the　best　vantage…ground　to　see
the　finish　of　a　race。　And　the　occasion　of　his　arrival；　for　all　the　gaiety；　was
one　of　dignity　and　importance。　If　Bostil　reveled　in　anything　it　was　in　an　hour
like　this。　His　liberality　made　this　event　a　great　race…day。　The　thoroughbreds
were　all　there；　blanketed；　in　charge　of　watchful　riders。　In　the　center　of　the
brow　of　this　long　bench　lay　a　huge；　flat　rock　which　had　been　Bostil's　seat　in
the　watching　of　many　a　race。　Here　were　assembled　his　neighbors　and　visitors
actively　interested　in　the　races；　and　also　the　important　Indians　of　both
tribes；　all　waiting　for　him。

As　Bostil　dismounted；　throwing　the　bridle　to　a　rider；　he　saw　a　face　that
suddenly　froze　the　thrilling　delight　of　the　moment。　A　tall；　gaunt　man　with
cavernous　black　eyes　and　huge；　drooping　black　mustache　fronted　him　and　seemed
waiting。　Cordts！　Bostil　had　forgotten。　Instinctively　Bostil　stood　on　guard。
For　years　he　had　prepared　himself　for　the　moment　when　he　would　come　face　to
face　with　this　noted　horse…thief。

〃Bostil；　how　are　you？〃　said　Cordts。　He　appeared　pleasant；　and　certainly
grateful　for　being　permitted　to　come　there。　From　his　left　hand　hung　a　belt
containing　two　heavy　guns。

〃Hello；　Cordts；〃　replied　Bostil；　slowly　unbending。　Then　he　met　the　other's
proffered　hand。

〃I've　bet　heavy　on　the　King；〃　said　Cordts。

For　the　moment　there　could　have　been　no　other　way　to　Bostil's　good　graces；　and
this　remark　made　the　gruff　old　rider's　hard　face　relax。

〃Wal；　I　was　hopin'　you'd　back　some　other　hoss；　so　I　could　take　your　money；〃
replied　Bostil。

Cordts　held　out　the　belt　and　guns　to　Bostil。　〃I　want　to　enjoy　this　race；〃　he
said；　with　a　smile　that　somehow　hinted　of　the　years　he　had　packed　those　guns
day　and　night。

〃Cordts；　I　don't　want　to　take　your　guns；〃　replied　Bostil；　bluntly。　〃I've　taken
your　word　an'　that's　enough。〃

〃Thanks；　Bostil。　All　the　same；　as　I'm　your　guest　I　won't　pack　them；〃　returned
Cordts；　and　he　hung　the　belt　on　the　horn　of　Bostil's　saddle。　〃Some　of　my　men
are　with　me。　They　were　all　right　till　they　got　outside　of　Brackton's　whisky。
But　now　I　won't　answer　for　them。〃

〃Wal；　you're　square　to　say　thet；〃　replied　Bostil。　〃An'　I'll　run　this　race　an'
answer　for　everybody。〃

Bostil　recognized　Hutchinson　and　Dick　Sears；　but　the　others　of　Cordts's　gang
he　did　not　know。　They　were　a　hard…looking　lot。　Hutchinson　was　a　spare；
stoop…shouldered；　red…faced；　squinty…eyed　rider；　branded　all　over　with　the
marks　of　a　bad　man。　And　Dick　Sears　looked　his　notoriety。　He　was　a　little　knot
of　muscle；　short　and　bow…legged；　rough　in　appearance　as　cactus。　He　wore　a
ragged　slouch…hat　pulled　low　down。　His　face　and　stubby　beard　were
dust…colored；　and　his　eyes　seemed　sullen；　watchful。　He　made　Bostil　think　of　a
dusty；　scaly；　hard；　desert　rattlesnake。　Bostil　eyed　this　right…hand　man　of
Cordts's　and　certainly　felt　no　fear　of　him；　though　Sears　had　the　fame　of　swift
and　deadly　skill　with　a　gun。　Bostil　felt　that　he　was　neither　afraid　nor　loath
to　face　Sears　in　gun…play；　and　he　gazed　at　the　little　horse…thief　in　a　manner
that　no　one　could　mistake。　Sears　was　not　drunk；　neither　was　he　wholly　free
from　the　unsteadiness　caused　by　the　bottle。　Assuredly　he　had　no　fear　of　Bostil
and　eyed　him　insolently。　Bostil　turned　away　to　the　group　of　his　riders　and
friends；　and　he　asked　for　his　daughter。

〃Lucy's　over　there；〃　said　Farlane；　pointing　to　a　merry　crowd。

Bostil　waved　a　hand　to　her；　and　Lucy；　evidently　mistaking　his　action；　came
forward；　leading　one　of　her　ponies。　She　wore　a　gray　blouse　with　a　red　scarf；
and　a　skirt　over　overalls　and　boots。　She　looked　pale；　but　she　was　smiling；　and
there　was　a　dark　gleam　of　excitement　in　her　blue　eyes。　She　did　not　have　on　her
sombrero。　She　wore　her　hair　in　a　braid；　and　had　a　red　band　tight　above　her
forehead。　Bostil　took　her　in　all　at　a　glance。　She　meant　business　and　she
looked　dangerous。　Bostil　knew　once　she　slipped　out　of　that　skirt　she　could
ride　with　any　rider　there。　He　saw　that　she　had　become　the　center　toward　which
all　eyes　shifted。　It　pleased　him。　She　was　his；　like　her　mother；　and　as
beautiful　and　thoroughbred　as　any　rider　could　wish　his　daughter。

〃Lucy；　where's　your　hoss？〃　he　asked；　curiously。

〃Never　you　mind；　Dad。　I'll　be　there　at　the　finish；〃　she　replied。

〃Red's　your　color　for　to…day；　then？〃　he　questioned；　as　he　put　a　big　hand　on
the　bright…banded　head。

She　nodded　archly。

〃Lucy；　I　never　thought　you'd　flaunt　red　in　your　old　Dad's　face。　Red；　when　the
color　of　the　King　is　like　the　sage　out　yonder。　You've　gone　back　on　the　King。〃

〃No；　Dad；　I　never　was　for　Sage　King；　else　I　wouldn't　wear　red　to…day。〃

〃Child；　you　sure　mean　to　run　in　this　racethe　big　one？〃

〃Sure　and　certain。〃

〃Wal；　the　only　bitter　drop　in　my　cup　to…day　will　be　seein'　you　get　beat。　But
if　you　ran　second　I'll　give　you　a　present　thet'll　make　the　purse　look　sick。〃

Even　the　Indian　chiefs　were　smiling。　Old　Horse；　the　Navajo；　beamed　benignly
upon　this　dau