Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 142: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

tack Wins,” then followed a statement in - smaller type that Jones had passed Laramie thirty miles ahead of his nearest competitor and would reach Cheyenne that afternoon. Dillon tossed the paper away without reading the story and gave his attention to riding. Ten minutes was all that Dillon took for lunch, feeding Sagamore beside a watering trough while he munched a sandwich. He let the horse drink rather freely, then swung back into the saddle, somewhat elated at the news that Jones was less than an hour ahead. Cheyenne was less than thirty miles away, yet Dillon was doubtful of overtak- ing the little horse. Still he reasoned that Sagamore was probably traveling twice as fast as Patsy and he urged the animal for- ward at racing speed. Twenty miles from the Wyoming capital Dillon’s heart leaped as he sighted a horse and rider on the road ahead. When Saga- more overtook them it proved to be a cow- boy on his way into town. Perhaps an hour later he met an auto, and the driver shouted that the leading horse was just ahead. As mile after mile flitted by without him seeing anything of Jones, he began to wonder if the driver could have been mistaken. Then, just as he sighted the smoke of Cheyenne, he recognized the little roan just topping a slight hill. Patsy was running, though it seemed to Dillon that it took a long, long time for him to cross the hill. Jones was miles ahead, however, and Dillon leaned over the big stallion’s neck, talking to him as he sent him forward at whirlwind speed, wondering if he could hold that pace after such a heart- breaking endurance test. Sagamore did, and the sight that Cheyenne witnessed will never be forgotten by those who saw it. The news that the racers were coming had long since been telephoned ahead, and the streets were lined with people. The Gov- ernor of Wyoming, a good sportsman him- _ self, stood in the rear seat of his car and cheered when Patsy, game to the last, but ced aie lack of rest, staggered into Sl Sa ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. warmed any red-blooded man’s heart, ys they suddenly stilled, then broke ¢ € anew. Over the hill at the outskirts at: i charged a great black horse, rur a the speed of his thorougtinalite sire as his flaring mane whipped the face of his ia . The little cow-horse was six ; from the capital when the racing stallion flashed past. Jones looked up and smiled, and somehow, that smile hurt Dillon. Dillon had delivered his letter and was re- ceiving the congratulations of the Governor when a shout down the street drew his at- tention. Instantly, he whirled Sagamore and raced down the street. He had recog- nized a low-slung roadster in the street and a big man who had literally jerked Jones from the saddle of his horse. Whether Buckley struck the man or not, Dillon wasn’t sure, but he did see something that was even worse. Jones had been flung to the ground, and as Buckley caught the bridle reins of the little horse, he swung a vicious kick to the animal’s stomach. Ordinarily, Dillon was inclined to reason things out, but he didn’t then. As Saga- more answered the tug at the reins, Dillon leaped from the saddle onto Buckley’s shoulders, smashing his right fist into the big man’s face as he landed on his feet. Buck- ley staggered back, and Dillon closed in, sending two blows to the stomach that dropped the brutal owner to the pavement. Hats were thrown into the air and hun- dreds cheered themselves hoarse, yet Dillon scarcely heard all that. He stepped back and assisted Jones to his feet, then on sud- den impulse, jerked a folded check book from his shirt pocket and leaned against Sagamore as he wrote. The check was for three thousand dollars, payable to bearer, and Dillon showed it to Jones before he turned to Buckley. “ That’s what Jones was to pay you for Patsy—and you’ve just sold him that horse,” Dillon said quietly. Buckley hesi-~ tated an instant, then climbed to his feet and walked groggily to his car. As he drove — away from the jeering crowd Dill ad