"Ladies and gents," said Red Perris, turning the color of his sobriquet.
"I ain't any electioneer when it comes to speech making."

"That's all right, boy," shouted encouraging partisans. "You'll get my
vote if you don't say a word."

"But I'll make it short," said Perris. "It's about these bets. They're
all off. It just come to my mind that two winters back me and this same
Rickety had a run in up Montana-way and he come out second-best. Well,
he must of remembered me the way I just now remembered him. That's why
he plumb quit when I let out a whoop. If he'd turned loose all his
tricks like he done with Arizona, why most like Charley would never of
had to take his turn. I'd be where he is now and he'd be doing the
laughing. Anyway, boys, the bets are off. I don't take money on a sure
thing."

It brought a shout of protest which was immediately drowned in a hearty
yell of applause.

"Now, don't that warm your heart, for you?" said Corson as the noise
fell away a little. "I tell you what--" he broke off with a chuckle,
seeing that she had taken a pencil and a piece of paper from her purse
and was scribbling hastily: "Taking notes on the Wild West, Miss
Jordan?"

"Mental notes," she said quietly, but smiling at him as she folded the
slip. She turned to the stripling, who all this time had hardly taken
his eyes from her even to watch the bucking and to hear the speech of
Perris.