Shout after shout went up as she rode over the course slowly, Hatrack having settled down into his usual dejected manner. The cheers and some of the jeers that greeted him came from the men who had been induced to bet on him.

"Now, Stella," said Bud, as Stella rode back again, "when you start, shout 'Vamose!' in Hatrack's ear. That's the word he has always been sent away with. Stick tight, an' let him go. Don't forget the word 'Vamose!'"

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE GREAT CHIQUITA.

Hatrack and Magpie were now brought up to the starting point.

The boy who traveled with old man Norris was on the back of the latter horse, sitting in a regular jockey's saddle and stripped of all superfluous clothing.

He was the typical jockey now. He had put away all the appearance of youth, and was a crafty and sly man.

It was apparent that the whole outfit was in the racing business, and as the crowd looked at the discrepancy between the two horses, and observed that on the best-looking horse was a professional jockey, while on the crowbait was only a girl, something like a groan went up.

But some of them were game, and cheered Stella to the echo.

"You're all right!" shouted her supporters.

"Hurrah fer ther girl jockey," yelled the cow-punchers. "I got a month's wages that says she'll win the race."

But the other side had something to say, also. They made all sorts of fun of Hatrack, and roars of laughter went up as he ambled, stiff-legged, onto the course.

Clay Whipple was chosen to start the race, and stood beside the track with a red flag in his hand. The two horses were jockeyed back and forth for several minutes.

"Are you ready?" shouted Clay, as they came up.

"No!" shouted Stella.

"No!" answered the jockey.

Back again they went, and came up neck and neck, the riders nodding to Clay.

"Go!" cried Clay, bringing down the red flag with a swish through the air.

"Vamose!" Stella's clear young voice rang out.

Then an amazing thing happened. Hatrack seemed to be suddenly galvanized into life. He straightened out, and shot to the front with great, long horizontal leaps. His body seemed to be gliding close to the earth.

His head was between his legs, and he was running like a greyhound.

Stella was bent low upon his neck, and every moment or two she would shout in Spanish, "Go it! Vamose!" or, "You're winning! Vamose!"

And winning Hatrack surely was. Now he was half a length ahead of the fleet Magpie, who was running the race of her life.

Behind her Stella could hear the crowd yelling like mad. The air fairly shook with the shouts of the mult.i.tude as the two horses shot forward.

But it was a short race, and seemed to Stella to have ended almost as soon as it began.

As she flew past Bud, she got a fleeting glimpse of him jumping up and down in a very ecstasy of glee, and she knew that she had won, and began pulling in Hatrack. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Magpie was already down to a walk a short distance from the wire, and that Cap Norris and the jockey were talking earnestly.

In a moment she had Hatrack turned, and was going back to where Bud was waiting for her.

"Bully for you, Stella," shouted Bud. "Yer rode a great race. Jest ez I wanted it run. n.o.body couldn't hev done it better. I told yer ye'd win."

"That was too easy," laughed Stella. "I wish it had been four times as long."

"That makes it all the better."

"How much did I beat him?"

"A whole length."

"That ought to be enough."

"It was, but I'll bet a cooky they'll make a kick. These crooks always lay out to win, and won't race unless they can win. If they don't, they set up a cry of foul, or something of that sort."

"But they can't do that in this case, because I didn't foul him."

Stella became indignant at the very thought.

"Sure you didn't, but that won't keep those wolves from claiming some sort of a foul."

"You're not going to stand for it, are you?"

"Not in a blue moon. I've got the boys posted. Here comes Norris and his jockey back."

The old racing sharp walked up to Bud, leading Magpie.

"Well, Magpie's mine," said Bud, not giving the other a chance to speak first. "Sorry for your sake that you lost, Cap, but the fortunes of racing often turn unexpectedly, eh?"

"You haven't won," said the old man excitedly.

"Oh, I reckon we won, all right," answered Bud lazily, although there was an ugly gleam in his eye.

"No, sir, you didn't win fair. Thar wuz a foul at ther start. I see it, all right; I wasn't sh.o.r.e until I talked with my boy thar, an' he says as how ther young lady b.u.mped him outer his stride jest ez they wuz gittin' off."

"Oh, no, you can't work me like that, Cap. They were five feet apart when the flag fell."

"I tell yer I see it with my own eyes. 'Twas a foul, an' I claim ther race, er it hez got ter be run over ag'in."

"Never, on yer life. The race goes to the young lady. But I'm not going to stand here and chew the thing over with you. It's up to the judges."

They all approached the judges' stand, where apparently a lively argument was in progress.

Ben and the big man who had been chosen by Norris were talking excitedly, and the other man was listening.