Under the rules, all entries were to be made before ten o’clock.  The contests were due to begin half an hour later, and each contestant was expected to be ready to compete in the order of his application.  There were eight entries in the relay race all told, mine being the seventh, which gave me a good opportunity to study the riding of those who preceded me.  There were ten or twelve entries each in the roping and riding contests, while the knights of the lance numbered an even thirty.  On account of the large number of entries the contests would require a full day, running the three classes simultaneously, allowing a slight intermission for lunch.  The selection of disinterested judges for each class slightly delayed the commencement.  After changing horses on reaching the field, the contests with the lance opened with a lad from Ramirena, who galloped over the course and got but a single ring.  From the lateness of our entries, none of us would be called until afternoon, and we wandered at will from one section of the field to another.  “Red” Earnest, from Waugh’s ranch on the Frio, was the first entry in the relay race.  He had a good mount of eight Spanish horses which he rode bareback, making many of his changes in less than fifteen seconds apiece, and finishing full three minutes under the time limit.  The feat was cheered to the echo, I joining with the rest, and numerous friendly bets were made that the time would not be lowered that day.  Two other riders rode before the noon recess, only one of whom came under the time limit, and his time was a minute over Earnest’s record.

Miss Jean had camped the ambulance in sight of the field, and kept open house to all comers.  Suspecting that she would have Mrs. Hunter and Esther for lunch, if they were present, I avoided our party and took dinner with Mrs. Booth.  Meanwhile Uncle Lance detailed Deweese and Happersett to handle my horses, allowing us five vaqueros, and distributing the other men as assistants to our other three contestants.  The day was an ideal one for the contests, rather warm during the morning, but tempered later by a fine afternoon breeze.  It was after four o’clock when I was called, with Waugh’s man still in the lead.  Forming a small circle at the starting-point, each of our vaqueros led a pair of horses, in bridles only, around a ring,—­constantly having in hand eight of my mount of ten.  As handlers, I had two good men in our segundo and Dan Happersett.  I crossed the line amid the usual shouting with a running start, determined, if possible, to lower the record of Red Earnest.  In making the changes, all I asked was a good grip on the mane, and I found my seat as the horse shot away.  The horses had broken into an easy sweat before the race began, and having stripped to the lowest possible ounce of clothing, I felt that I was getting out of them every fraction of speed they possessed.  The ninth horse in my mount, a roan, for some unknown reason sulked at starting,