“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.

All about the stand an angry crowd of men was surging, all talking at once, so that nothing could be made out of the babel of shouts, except when some person with unusually good lungs made himself heard in a denunciation of one or the other riders.

Ted had joined the crowd, waiting for the arrival of Bud and Stella.  Bud was walking by the side of Stella, whose face showed the disappointment she felt at not being declared at once the winner.

It was so evidently a job to steal the race from Hatrack that the leader of the broncho boys was both angry and disgusted.

“This is what you get for having anything to do with this mob of gamblers and thieves,” he said to Kit, who was standing by his side.

“What’s that you said, young feller?” said a man, edging up.

“I wasn’t talking to you, my friend,” answered Ted coolly.

“No, but you was talkin’ at me,” said the other.

“Why, are you a thief and a gambler?” asked Ted, with a lifting of his eyebrows that expressed a great deal that he did not say.

“I guess it’s the other way around,” answered the fellow, snarling.

“I don’t see how you make that out.”

“Well, I do.  The gal bumped the rider o’ Magpie.”

“She did nothing of the sort.  I stood beside the starter of the race, and I was nearer to the horses than you were, and if any one could see them I could.  The horses were several feet apart when they started.”

“Why, sure.  You and your pals are interested in the bone heap that went in first through a foul.”

“That will be about enough of that.”

A bright red spot burned on each of Ted’s cheeks, the danger signal of his wrath.

“Now, see here, young fellow, you can’t throw any bluff into me,” said the fellow, approaching Ted with one shoulder raised.

“You let him alone.  He’s all right, and has got as much right to talk as you have,” said another man, elbowing his way up.

He was one of those who had bet on Hatrack, and Ted recognized him as the foreman of the Running Water horse ranch.

“Well, the gal stole the race fer these fellers, an’ we ain’t goin’ ter stand fer it.  They needn’t think they kin bring any o’ their gals in here to do their dirty work.  They all look alike to us.”

“See here,” said Ted coolly, “let me give you a piece of advice.  Leave the young lady out of it, or I’ll give you something else to think about for a while.”