_Th' race! Captain Jack--no--th'--th'--maverick--he had
to ride_--He must get out! There was a--a--window--sometimes they had
them--in the back of the stalls. Maybe the hay was over it. He climbed
on the bales. Behind them he could see the opening. God, he was weak!
With the sweat of terrible nausea bursting from every pore of his body
he pulled the bales back. He fell over the bale on which he had been
lying. One hand brushed his hat which had fallen from his head.
Mechanically, with stiff fingers, he picked it up and jammed it on
again. Then he climbed--crawled--over the hay and pitched forward
through the opening, in a limp heap, on the ground outside.
For a moment he lost consciousness completely again: _Th'--th' race--th'
maverick! he mustn't forget_--
He fought his way to his feet and groped along back of the building--the
stall--which way was it? Down there? No--the other way--
As Carolyn June tightened the rear cinch on the Gold Dust maverick and
turned toward the door of the stall with: "Look out, boys--I'm coming
out!" the Ramblin' Kid, clutching at the side of the building, reeled
around the corner of the stall. The cowboys saw him. He himself saw only
black shapes where their horses were.
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