“Not for a minute,” said Ted, throwing a straight glance into the other’s eyes.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, that I can see.  But what’s the use if we can get at it in some other way?”

“Well, I reckon yer right, bub,” said the other slowly.  “Some one is shore liable ter git hurt.  But I’d sooner see ther whole crowd hurt than have this bunch o’ thieves git away with their game.”

“They won’t do that.  Never fear.”

The crowd was now watching the men in the judges’ stand.

Evidently Ben and Shan Rhue were wrestling in spirit with the third judge, who was still wavering.  He knew that the right was with Ben, but he was afraid of the big bully Shan, and the gamblers, who were most in evidence.

He did not know that the cow-punchers and the townspeople who had bet on Hatrack were being organized on the outskirts of the crowd, and that Kit and Clay and the other broncho boys were with them to direct them to the attack when it might seem necessary to assert their rights.

Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd.  Shan Rhue had struck Ben Tremont a staggering blow.  They heard Ben let out a roar like a wounded bull, as he threw the great bulk of his body upon the man who had struck him.

Now they were wrestling, and the frail stand in which they were, fifteen feet above the ground, swayed with their struggle.

“Kill him!” shouted the gamblers.

“Throw him down here!”

“Let us finish him!”

“Stay with him, Shan!”

These and other cries and threats were shouted by the mob.  But Ted Strong said nothing.  He was watching the struggle intently and quietly.

He had no fear but that Ben would be able to hold his own.  His great strength hardly matched that of Shan Rhue, who was a giant, and the most feared man in the Wichita Mountains.  But Ben was more than his match in wrestling skill, and, moreover, he was younger and more supple for all his bulk, and his work on the football gridiron when in college had taught him tricks of the tackle of which the big bully did not dream.

He had a hold on the bully now, and was gradually forcing him backward toward the frail railing that inclosed the floor of the stand.

Ted saw his intention.  It was to throw Shan Rhue against the railing, then spring away.  Rhue evidently divined the same thing, for he struggled with all his force against it, striking Ben in the ribs and occasionally in the face.

But his blows were not very effective, as Ben had him caught so closely that his blows lost their power.  Thus the struggle went on for a few moments.  Then, when it was least expected, there was a crash of breaking wood.

A yell went up from the crowd as it surged back, and the gigantic body of Shan Rhue came hurtling through the railing, which went into splinters from the impact of his bulk.

Shan Rhue grasped at the air, as with a roar he went over.  He turned a complete somersault as he descended and landed on his shoulders.  For a moment he lay quivering, half stunned.