"Three days beginnin--say June first. June first--second, an' third. How about
thet for the races?"

Everybody agreed, and Bostil laboriously wrote that down. Then they planned
the details. Purses and prizes, largely donated by Bostil and Muncie, the rich
members of the community, were recorded. The old rules were adhered to. Any
rider or any Indian could enter any horse in any race, or as many horses as he
liked in as many races. But by winning one race he excluded himself from the
others. Bostil argued for a certain weight in riders, but the others ruled out
this suggestion. Special races were arranged for the Indians, with saddles,
bridles, blankets, guns as prizes.

All this appeared of absorbing interest to Bostil. He perspired freely. There
was a gleam in his eye, betraying excitement. When it came to arranging the
details of the big race between the high-class racers, then he grew intense
and harder to deal with. Many points had to go by vote. Muncie and Williams
both had fleet horses to enter in this race; Holley had one; Creech had two;
there were sure to be several Indians enter fast mustangs; and Bostil had the
King and four others to choose from. Bostil held out stubbornly for a long
race. It was well known that Sage King was unbeatable in a long race. If there
were any chance to beat him it must be at short distance. The vote went
against Bostil, much to his chagrin, and the great race was set down for two
miles.

"But two miles! . . . Two miles!" he kept repeating. "Thet's Blue Roan's
distance. Thet's his distance. An' it ain't fair to the King!"

His guests, excepting Creech, argued with him, explained, reasoned, showed him
that it was fair to all concerned. Bostil finally acquiesced, but he was not