As Lefty and Alkali both knew well, Tanglefoot was a wild bronco which had brought the downfall of more than one ambitious rodeo rider. If Connie were able to handle him she might win the grand prize, but even the two cowboys doubted that she had the skill.

Connie was the fifth rider. Before her there were three local girls whose riding while good was not particularly colorful. The fourth contestant, Enid Bradshaw, by far outpointed her opponents. She knew she had done well and a satisfied smile played over her face as she left the arena.

“I’ll have to ride as I never did before if I beat that!” thought Connie.

Her turn came next. She mounted Tanglefoot from the fence.

“Let her go!”

As the shout went up, the gate flew open, and out streaked the roan, landing with a running buck in the midst of the judges, forcing them to wheel their horses.

A ripple of comment passed over the crowd. Here was a girl who could ride!

Tanglefoot, too, acted as if he were surprised. For a moment he seemed to be debating the disgrace of his failure to dislodge his fair rider. Then the wiry little mustang went into a veritable paroxysm of bucking.

Connie never knew that seconds could spin out to such an interminable length. The horse leaped into the air, twisting his lithe body like an ancient equine ancestor trying to shake off a puma or a jaguar from his back. Down he would come, stiff-legged, and then rise again into the air as if his muscles were made of spring steel.

From her waist up Connie held her body as relaxed as possible, at the same time shifting her weight with lightning-like rapidity to preserve her balance. Her torso remained vertical to the ground, regardless of Tanglefoot’s rapid maneuvers. Waving her hat with her rein-free hand, the girl kept a graceful seat through it all. Tanglefoot’s best was not good enough.

Connie at last heard the timekeeper’s pistol. The contest was over as far as she was concerned. She felt that she had acquitted herself well and she was sure of it when she heard the cheers of the crowd ringing in her ears.

Leaping from Tanglefoot’s saddle to the back of another horse led by the hazer, she galloped in triumph from the ring.

“That was wonderful ridin’,” Lefty told her proudly, a few minutes later. “If you don’t win the prize then the judges have been bought off!”

Connie watched anxiously as four other girls took their turns in the contest. One was thrown while the other three had drawn horses which did not require a high degree of skill to ride.

“It’s in the bag, Connie!” whispered Lefty excitedly.

And he was right. A few minutes later the announcer rode forth to broadcast through his megaphone that Connie Carl had won first prize in the riding contest.

“Oh, Lefty!” the girl cried, fairly overcome by her good fortune. “Just think! Five hundred dollars! And maybe I’ll win more before the day is over.”

Connie had entered her name in a free-for-all race as well as a roping contest. In the latter event she placed third, netting a cash award of fifty dollars. Second prize in the running race brought her an additional two hundred dollars.

It was a proud moment for Connie when she stepped forward to claim her ribbons and a slip of paper which represented seven hundred and fifty dollars.

Jim Barrows, separating himself from the crowd, come over to the fence to congratulate the girl.

“What will you do with so much money?” he asked jokingly.

“I could use six times as much!” Connie laughed. “I think I’ll take it home and hide it under the bed. I know one thing! Not a cent will be deposited in the First National Bank.”

“You don’t trust the banker?” smiled the cowboy.

“He and I don’t feel too friendly toward each other.”

“Seriously though, Miss Carl, you’re not thinking of carrying that money on your person?”

“Why not?” asked Connie quickly. “I’ll cash the check just before I start for the ranch.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone might rob you?”

Such a thought had never even occurred to Connie.

“There hasn’t been a holdup around here since the stagecoach stopped running!” she laughed. “Besides, no one could ever get this money away from me.”

Jim Barrows said no more, but after chatting for a few minutes wandered off again. It was the longest conversation he had ever carried on with Connie.

“He really acted as if he were worried about my money,” the girl thought.

The rodeo was drawing to a close and already many persons were leaving the stands. Connie’s eye wandered over the crowd. She wondered what had become of Pop Bradshaw and Enid. She had not seen the old rancher since the bulldogging event, nor had the girl appeared to congratulate her upon winning out in the bronco riding contest.

“In her heart I don’t believe Enid really likes me,” Connie told herself. “And from now on it will be harder than ever for us to be friends.”

She turned her attention once more to the arena. Only one more event remained on the day’s program, an Indian race.

At the opposite side of the track she could see the ponies being lined up. They were small, sleek, beautiful animals, so high spirited that their riders had trouble holding them in position. The Indians themselves, adorned with bright sashes, paint and feathers, added a colorful note to the scene.

The start of the race was delayed and the crowd grew more impatient. An increasing number deserted the stands, many leaving the bleachers to crowd against the fence. A portion of it gave way causing a momentary flurry of excitement.

“Back from the track, folks!” warned one of the guards, but when he moved off a minute later, the crowd swarmed through the opening again.

No one noticed that a child, separated from its parents, stood alone just inside the break of the fence.

Then at last the starter’s pistol cracked and the racers were off! Down the track in a cloud of dust came the ponies, their bareback riders bent low as they urged their mounts to greater speed.

At that moment, the child, unaware of any danger, started to toddle across the track. Midway to the other side the little girl saw the oncoming horses and heard the thundering hoofs. Frozen by terror she stopped and stood perfectly still.

“That child will be killed!” screamed a woman.

Before any of the guards could act, Connie slid down from the fence. The racers were almost at the grandstand. With no thought for her own safety, the girl darted out onto the track, directly in the path of the onrushing horses.