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Show M YFRI END ZZ Airmen iara aMMMS "Tlirro's sluuli" then1, nml gtiiss, ntul the running stream of watt'r, I'll be needing this pasture for 'lie other horses." "ISut the Calf Piintuie's got only three straiuls of barbed wire," said Ken uneasily. "She might Jump It and (,vt away." His fatlior cast him one of his withering glances. "Slid won't Jump It. Kon. She won't Jump anything. Not for n lone time yet." "Besides," said Howard, "down there she'll have company. The calves nml our colts with their mothers. moth-ers. She won't be alone." "She'll be nlone, nil right," said McLaughlin with a short laugh; and Ken remembered the remark about a loco horse always being a Lone Wolf. "She'll keep to herself." Nell and Ross wont down to the stable to begin the work on the polo ponies, and the rest of them spread out in a fan behind Flicka and gently urged her toward the gate which Gus had opened into the Calf Pasture. She went a few steps at a time, then stopped to rest with her head hanging weakly. Ken was glad she was In the Call Pasture. It was here the boys trained their colts, here that the milch cows grazed at night and the calves in the daytime. And It was nearer the house. From the Green, from the terrace, from Ken's window, win-dow, a great deal of the Calf Pasture Pas-ture could be seen, and It comforted Ken to think that Flicka was close by even when he couldn't be with her. ' After dinner the men were loading load-ing the four Rodeo horses, Lady, Calico, Baldy and Buck, into the truck for McLaughlin to drive into Cheyenne. His throat felt dry; his Hps wore like paper. After a long while he whispered, "1 didn't mean to kill you, Flicka" He counted her wounds. The two worst were a deep cut above the right rear hock, and a long gash in her chest that ran down into the muscle of the foreleg. Besides those, she was snagged with three-cornered tears through which the flesh pushed out, and laced with cuts and scratches with blood drying on them in rows of little black beads. Ken wondered if the two bad cuts ought to be sewn up. lie thought of Doe Hicks, and then remembered what his Dad had said: "You cost me money every time you turn around." No Gus might do it Gus was pretty good at sewing up animals. ani-mals. But Dad said best thing of all is usually to let them alone. They heal up. The cut in Flicka's hind leg was awfully deep-He deep-He put his head down against her and whispered again, "Oh, Flicka I didn't mean to kill you." Gus came out to him carrying a can of black grease. "De Boss tole me to put some of dis grease on de filly's cuts, Ken it helps heal 'em up." Together they went over her carefully, care-fully, putting a smear of the grease wherever they could reach a wound. Gus stood looking down at the boy. "D'you think she'll get well, Gus?" "She might, Ken. I seen plenty horses hurt as bad as dot, and dey yust as good as ever." "Dad said " But Ken's voice failed him when he remembered that his father had said she might as tllR STORY SO FAK: Tcnyrsrolti Ken Mi-l .Mii:Mln, Riven nn opportunity to choose tiny yearling colt on hi dim-Uy's dim-Uy's Wyoming r.nm-h, picks thl ftlly of ft loco" mare named KocUet. Ms choice merely adds to his father's Minor, which Is already aroused by the fact that Ken has tailed his school work and has shown no sense of responsibility. It was Ken's mother who finally persuaded Captain Mcl.aui:hlln that havlnR the colt mlcht be Rood for Ken. and Uie chance In hint has proved she was rlsht. Hut Kllcka, the filty refuses to be captured. CauRlit once, she escapes and ts caufiht ftfialn. To Ken she's wonderful. To Mcl.ausliltn she's just plain loco. Now continue with the story. CHAriT.R X Mindful that she had clawed her way out when she was corraled before, be-fore, McLaughlin determined to keep her in Uie main corral into .which the stable door opened. It had eight-foot walls of aspen poles. The rest of the yearlings must be maneuvered away from her. Now that the fog had gone, the sun was scorching, and horses and men alike were soaked with sweat before the chasing was over and, one after the other, the yearlings had been driven into the other corral, cor-ral, and Flicka was alone. She knew that her solitude meant danger, and that she was singled (out for some special disaster. She ran frantically to the high fence through which she could see the other oth-er ponies standing, and reared and clawed at the poles; she screamed, whirled, circled the corral first in one direction, and then the other. And while McLaughlin and Ross were discussing the advisability of roping her, she suddenly espied the dark hole which was the open upper half of the stable door, and dove through it McLaughlin rushed to close it, and she was caught safely safe-ly imprisoned in the stable. Ken hurried to catch his father before the truck started, and found him in the cab. "Dad!" McLaughlin looked down. "Well?" he barked. "Could I have a few forkfuls of hay for Flicka? She doesn't graze, I think she can't move around much." Being asked for hay was like being be-ing asked for his right eye. McLaughlin's Mc-Laughlin's rule was, never feed hay when there's green grass growing. He roared, "I told you you cost me money every time you turn around." "Could I, Dad?" repeated Ken unflinchingly. un-flinchingly. "All right," said McLaughlin. "Just for a few days." He leaned out the window of the truck, shouting shout-ing for Gus, and Ken dashed away. Ken carried the hay out to Flicka on a pitchfork. Every step he took for her was a joy. When Flicka saw him coming she tried to run away, and Ken said, "Oh, no, Flicka, don't run away, don't be afraid of me. I am Ken. And this is hay. You like it, Flicka come and get some hay." He stood some distance off, having hav-ing placed the hay near the tub of water, and presently Flicka came limping back, smelled at it, and began to eat. Ken lay with his elbow on the ground and his head propped on his hand, looking at Flicka. Now and then she would raise her head. He knew she was better; her wounds were not bleeding today. They were swollen, and where the flesh had been pink and wet yesterday, yester-day, today it was darker and dry. Th,e scabs were forming. Howard was doing his colts for him today too. Ken hated to leave Flicka even for an hour. But when they went up after dinner, din-ner, there was no Flicka in the barn. One of the windows above the manger man-ger was broken, and the manger was full of pieces of glass. Staring at it, McLaughlin gave a short laugh. He looked at Ken. "She climbed into the manger see? Stood on the feed box, beat the glass out with her front hoofs apd climbed through." The window opened into the Six Foot Pasture. Near it was a wagon-load wagon-load of hay. When they went around the back of the stable to see where she had gone they found her between be-tween the stable and the hay wagon, eating. At their approach, she leaped away, then headed east across the pasture. "If she's like her mother," said Rob, "she'll go right through the wire." "Ay bet she'll go over," said Gus. "She yumps like a deer." "No horse can jump that," said McLaughlin. Ken said nothing because he could not speak. It was the most terrible moment of his life. He watched Flicka racing toward the eastern wire. A few yards from it, she swerved, turned and raced diagonally south. "It turned her! it turned her!" cried Ken, almost sobbing. It was the first sign of hope for Flicka. "Oh, Dad, she has got sense, she has! She has!" Flicka turned again as she met ! the southern boundary of the pas- Caught on the upper strands, she turned a complete somersault. well die, because she was loco anyway. any-way. The Swede stood a moment, his pale blue eyes, transparent and spiritual, spir-itual, looking kindly down at the boy; then he went on down to the barn. Every trace of fog and mist had vanished, and the sun was blazing hot. Sweltering, Ken got up to take a drink of water from the bucket left for Flicka. Then, carrying hand-fuls hand-fuls of water in his small cupped hands, he poured It on her mouth. Flicka did not move, and once again Ken took his place behind her, his hand on her neck, his lips whispering whisper-ing to her. After a while his head sank in exhaustion ex-haustion to the ground . . . When evening came, and Nell had called Ken and had taken him by the hand and led him away, Flicka still lay without moving. Gently the darkness folded down over her. Everybody went out to see Flicka right after breakfast and she stood against the fence as far away from them as she could get, while they discussed her injuries anfi her points, and whether she was more like Banner or Rocket Every remark made about her went through Ken as if it had been made about himself, but he too wanted to get a verdict and said, "She's got wonderful points, hasn't At milking time Tim went down to the cowbarn, carrying the milk pails. The bronco-buster, as usual, was with him, walking stiffly on his high heels, his thin legs in their frale blue jeans so bowed that a dog could have run through them. They made a detour into the Calf Pasture to take a look at the filly. "I'll be doggoned," said Ross calmly, with no expression at all on his small face, "she's beginning to look right pert." He sat down on a rock, took out his cigarette papers and a bag of Bull Durham, and expertly rolled himself a cigarette. Tim stood there with two milk pails on each arm and the usual surprised grin on his comical Irish face. "Well, Kennie," he said, "how do you like trained-nursin?" "All right," said Ken, shamefacedly. shame-facedly. "When I seen her go for that fence," continued Tim, "I didn't really believe she'd try it then I sez to meself, crazy people you c'n lock I uo in asylums crazy horses vou ture, again at the northern; she avoided the barn, Without abating anything of her whirlwind speed, following a precise, accurate calculation, calcu-lation, and turning each time on a j dime, she investigated every possi- bility. Then, seeing that there was i no hope, she raced south towards i the range where she had spent her life, gathered herself, and rose to I the impossible leap. I Each of the men watching had i the impulse to cover his eyes, and '; Ken gave a howl of despair. ! Twenty yards of fence came down i with her as she hurled herself through. Caught on the upper j strands, she turned a complete somersault, som-ersault, landing on her back, her four 1 legs dragging the wires down on j top of her, and tangling herself in j them beyond hope of escape. ! "The wire!" cursed McLaughlin. ! "If I could afford decent fences " Ken followed the men miserably as they walked to the Ally. They j stood in a circle watching while she t kicked and fought and thrashed un-I un-I til the wire was tightly wound and 1 tangled about her, piercing and j tearing her flesh and hide. At last j she was unconscious, streams of blood running on her goiden coat, and pools of crimson widening on j the grass beneath her. j With the wire cutters which Gus j always carried in the hip pocket of j his overalls, he cut the wire away;. ; and they drew her into the pasture, repaired the fence, placed hay, a i box of oats, and a tub of water j near her, and called it a day. I "I doubt if she pulls out of it," aid McLaughlin briefly. "But it's ! just as well. If it hadn't been this i way it would have been another. ! A loco horse isn't worth a darn." ; Ken lay on the grass behind I Flicka. One little brown hand was nn her back, smoothing it, pressing ! softly, caressing. The other hand : supported his head. His face hung , over her i gotta let kill themselves." Ken slowly lifted his head and stared at Tim's dark red grinning face. Suddenly all the odds and ends of thought which had confused him came clear in his mind. Loco it wasn't just loco, the way you said, Oh, you're nuts. It meant wrong in the head lunatic asylums crazy people Flicka wasn't right Horror went through him like zigzags zig-zags of lightning. "She sure is a wild woman," said Ross seriously. Ken looked from Tim to Ross. "Do you think she's really " The word that had always been so easy to say now stuck in his throat. He brought it out with difficulty-"loco?" difficulty-"loco?" "She sure is." 1 (TO HE CONTINUED) she, Dad?" McLaughlin glared at Ken. "You've bought her, Ken. She's signed, sealed and delivered. Always Al-ways choose them first, set your heart on them, buy them, and study their points afterwards that way you'll be a first-rate horseman." Ken's face got red and he looked away. Flicka, as if she felt the shame of her position, urged herself weakly along the fence in one direction, direc-tion, then turned and went in the other, trying to escape. "I think she's a perfect little beauty," beau-ty," said Nell, who was there in her riding clothes, ready to give Rumba her workout. "I want her moved down to the Calf Pasture," said McLaughlin. |