"
It was the last day of the fiesta and the famous race was at hand.
"There is the old cattle man with his vaqueros."
"Faith, they're a tough lookin' lot, all armed with a brace o' Colts
apiece. 'Tis fun they'd have, cleanin' out a Fandango House."
"Patty, girl, you are pale today."
"Oh, Eric, 'tis the last day of grace. Heaven help us if - "
"See, Patty, gir-r-rl, they're fixin' for the foot race between Cherokee
Bob an' that Australian squirt fr'm Sacramento."
"Why are they placing men with guns every ten feet along the track?"
"The Indian can beat the Australian, but he thried to sell the boys out,
an' if he slackens his gait by ever so little, the b'ys will begin
shootin' sthraight before them. An' maybe afther the race, he'd better
be runnin' right on into the next county."
"What next?"
"Next is a jackass fight, an' then, the race!"
After the billigerent jacks had been led away, Red Pete suddenly took to
the brush, accelerated by a fusillade of bullets.
"Welchin' his bets, he is, an' ivery man he owes is lettin' him have
it.
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