Once that had irritated her but now, remembering, it rang in her ear to
a different tune. As Rickety spun to his feet, Perris vaulted to the
saddle and found both stirrups in mid-leap, so to speak. The gelding
instantly tested the firmness of his rider's seat by vaulting high and
landing on one stiffened foreleg. The resultant shock broke two ways,
like a curved ball, snapping down and jerking to one side. But he
survived the blow, giving gracefully to it.

It was fine riding, very fine; and the crowd hummed with appreciation.

"A handsome rascal, eh?" said Mr. Corson.

But she caught at his arm.

"Oh!" gasped Marianne. "Oh! Oh!"

Three flurries of wild pitching drew forth those horrified whispers. But
still the flaming red head of the rider was as erect, as jaunty as ever.
Then the quirt flashed above him and cut Rickety's flank; the crowd
winced and gasped. He was not only riding straight up but he was putting
the quirt to Rickety--to Rickety!

The piebald seemed to feel the sting of the insult more than the lash.
He bolted across the field to gain impetus for some new and more
terrible feat but as he ran a yell from Perris thrilled across the
crowd.

"They do that, some men. Get plumb drunk with a fight!"