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Show S&tfiifV' II jf IV MARY O'HARA ' i4-'AAiui.'. LJ W.M.U. FEATURES' .-C.wVi THK STORY THUS FAR: Thunder-head, Thunder-head, the only white horse ever foaled on Goose Bar ranch, Is evidently a throwback throw-back to his great grandslre, a wild stallion stal-lion called the Albino. .Ills 14-ycar-old owner, Ken McLaughlin, hopes he will become a famous racer. Thunderhcad, very fast but difficult to handle, has been entered in a race meeting in Idaho. A month before the races Thunderhcad breaks away and Joins a herd of wild horses. He kills the Albino. Ken is unable un-able to recover him. Bob McLaughlin, Ken's father, sends a speedy filly, Touch and Go, to the track. In an early cold snap both Banner and Thundcrhead bring their herds to the ranch. Rob rushes Thunderbead to the race track. the race course without making a try, why it's up to you!" "Is it, really, dad?" "Sure it is." But there was a sharp, contemptuous look in Rob's eyes. "Make your choice j" He leaned back and took out his pipe and lit it, then looked around as if he had no further interest in the subject. sub-ject. The decision leaped up in Ken, ready-made. He said, suddenly, "He'll run. And he'll win." The words went through Rob like the twang of a string and caused him the emotion he always felt when one of his boys took a stride toward manhood. His hand came down on Ken's arm and squeezed it. The other hand reached for his hat. "Come on, sonl We'll go out and see to getting Thun-derhead's Thun-derhead's shoes changed." They walked out to the stables together, to-gether, and if anything more had been necessary to crystalize Ken's determination, it was the remark his father made as they reached Thun-derhead's Thun-derhead's stall. "Of course, Ken, if he doesn't win, and jf we have to take him back, you realize I can't have him around the ranch any more. I'll have to sell him for anything any-thing I can get and that means gelding him first." Ken came to a dead stop. "But dadl I'd get him off the ranch. He'd go back to his valley!" "But he wouldn't stay," said Rob simply, "and sooner or later he'd get In a fight with Banner and, well you know what that means. You saw " Thunderhead did not like Dickson, and came out of the stall fighting. The rest of the field were off and away on the two-mile race while Dickson was still trying to shake the bit out of Thunderhead's teeth and head him in the right direction. ously to this strange heaving mountain moun-tain to the right of him. At Dickson's Dick-son's yell and the shaking of the bit in his mouth, the stallion want up onto his hind legs. Bravura and Staghorn rushed past, beginning the second lap of the race. "Whip him, Dickson! Beat hell out of him!" Ken's voice, cracking with strain, reached Dickson from the crowd. Dickson cast one hopeless hope-less glance toward Ken as Thunder-head Thunder-head whirled and plunged, and a wave of the jockey's empty right hand showed that he had lost his whip. Ken's open mouth closed without another sound and his face paled. Dickson pulled off his ;ap and beat it from side to side on Thunder-head's Thunder-head's neck. Other horses passed him, streaming along the rail. Suddenly Sud-denly Thunderhead plunged forward, and again Ken was weak with relief. He unclenched his fingers slowly. Little bleeding scars were in the palms of his hands. It was all right now Thunderhead had passed them once, he could do It again. But Thunderhead had no intention of doing it. All he wanted, apparently, appar-ently, was a good spot in which to show everyone what he was going to do to this rider whom he didn't want on his back. Angling across the empty track, he floated over the inner rail, galloped to the center, leaped into the air, corkscrewing, came down with feet like four steel pistons rocked a couple of times, and had no need to do more. For Dickson was making one of those slow curves through the air that Ken had made, times without number. Free of his rirler, Thunderhead decided de-cided to join in the race. He floated over the rail again and the beautiful beau-tiful easy leap drew a gasp from the grandstand and then he started to overtake the field. Again it grew like an orchestral crescendo the roar of the grandstand until the white horse closed the distance between be-tween himself and the rest of the field. ' Thunderhead did not know when to stop. He floated on when the race was over and the winner proclaimed pro-claimed and the other horses were walking back into the paddock. Attendants At-tendants ran out on the track and tried to stop him. That angered him. He dodged them, sailed over the outer rail and away into the distance, dis-tance, the little stirrups dangling-and dangling-and tapping at his sides. When Thunderhead vanished beyond be-yond the grove of willows south of the race track, Ken fought through the crowd behind him, under the 1 grandstand out at the back and around the west end of the track. He ran as fast as he could, keeping CHAPTER XXVI A flashing glance of Rob's fierce blue eyes paid tribute to Ken for this sign of understanding and honesty. hon-esty. "All the same, Ken, we're commlttted to this and we can't turn back. Neither can Thunderhead Thunder-head turn back. It's too late. Remember, Re-member, too, how much depends on this." "What?" "Have you forgotten all the things you were going to get for your mother?" Ken winced. "Right now, with hospital expenses ex-penses facing us,' believe me, if there' any money In Thunderhead, we need it." Ken's mind began to turn and twist, looking In every direction for some escape for Thunderhead. Touch and Go had run in two races and had not shown in either, although al-though she had nearly been in the money In the second race. She had one more chance, in the race which would follow the Greenway race that afternoon. But certainly she was nothing to count on now. "And," went on Rob, "remember the things you were going to do for the ranch. Wooden fences. Clear off the debts." "I know." "Are you going to turn tail and be a quitter now at the last moment just because Thunderhead is mooning moon-ing for his mares?" "But dad it's just because because be-cause well, he never was like this to me before. He always stared at me, and did things to me, aimed a kick or bite at me, you know. I always had to watch him. But he's changed. He was glad to see me this morning glad! He he " "What did he do?" "Well, he just put his head in my arms and leaned against me the way he always did with mother, as if I was the only friend he had in the ' world and gave a kind of a little mumbling grunt, you know the sound, as if it comes right out of his heart." Rob was silent and could not raise his eyes to look at his boy. At last he said, "Ken, you've got a divided loyalty here. And there's nothing tougher than that. Whichever Which-ever way you turn you hurt yourself your-self and someone else too. This happens hap-pens to people often and it'll be a good experience for you. Are you going to stick to your plan to make money for the ranch and for allour needs your own too, don't forget that the money that's needed for your education and Howard's Are you going to carry on with what you've started what we've all worked for for three years? Or are you going to well, not exactly quit, but be deflected from your aim at the last moment?" "Would that be wrong, dad?" "It would not be strong, Ken. I could not admire such behavior. It wouldn't be manly. Sometimes, in life, you have to choose a course that is right and pursue it even if it hurts some Innocent party." Ken did not answer. Rob finished his breakfast, laid down knife and fork and pushed his plate away. "When Dickson gets on that horse this afternoon I want you to be pulling pull-ing for them both with all your heart." Ken's face began to burn. Visualizing Visual-izing Thunderhead prancing out with Dickson on his back, he couldn't do anything but pull for him! The idea of any other horse beating Thunderhead! Thun-derhead! "And remember this, Ken, although al-though right now Thunderhead's got his mind on other things than racing, rac-ing, and he's sulking, yet he's been trained for a race horse. It's in his blood rww. And after a little of it, this iifo will become his true life." Ken' eyes lifted to his father's with a deep probing question. "Honestly, "Hon-estly, da!? As much as his wild life wouH D"e?" ( Rob hedged. 'Well, Ken, you know how I feel about horses. I always al-ways have the regret that when we take them for our own ends and make artificial lives for them, we deprive them of their true and natural nat-ural and self-sumcient lives. But those would not always be necessarily neces-sarily better lives, in terms of the horse's well-being and happiness." This made Ken thoughtful. Rob was getting impatient. He called the waiter and paid the check. A glance at Ken showed him that the boy was still in a state of indecision. indeci-sion. He leaned across the table. "Listen!" Ken looked up. There was a different dif-ferent tone In his father's voice and a different look on his face. "You're going to make your decision deci-sion right now, Ken, and then stick to it." "Me?" "Yes. Be a man. It's your horse. H you want him taken away from his eye on that little dip in the willows wil-lows through which Thunderhead had disappeared. Half a mile away the white stallion stal-lion stood quietly. When Ken whistled whis-tled for him, he turned his head, then trotted toward his young master. mas-ter. As he came up, Ken looked at him bitterly. "You fool! You've thrown away the only chance you had in the world!" Thunderhead stopped, recognizing something other than approval in Ken's voice. "You could have done it! Easy as pie I And now you've spoiled everything!" ev-erything!" There was a tremor In Ken's voice as he finished, and he said nothing more, but mounted the horse and rode him slowly back, circling the track to reach the stables. sta-bles. As he did so, he heard by the roar from the grandstand that another race was in progress, and drew rein on a little elevation and turned in the saddle just in time to see the horses flash over the finish line a bright golden sorrel with blond tail a good length in the lead. Touch and Go! He had entirely forgotten that she was running! And now she had won! A flood of joy alternated al-ternated with the feeling that it could not possibly be true. " Ken galloped Thunderhead to the stables, not dismounting to open gates, but jumping every one. He put the stallion In his stall, called to one of the stable boys to attend to him, and ran back to the race track. He was in time to hear the announcement an-nouncement over the loud-speaker. "Winner, Touch and Go, of the Goose Bar stables. Owner, Kenneth McLaughlin." Ken stood still a moment. This was what victory felt like Then he dashed forward. He wanted to get this hands on Touch and Go and see if she was really still herself. Perry Gunston had her in the paddock. pad-dock. A blanket had been thrown over her, and around her was a crowd of men. Rob McLaughlin was talking to old Mr. Greenway, and he called Ken to him and said, "I want you to meet Mr. Greenway. This Is my son, Mr. Greenway, the owner and trainer of the filly." As Ken put out his hand he heard an eager little whinny behind him. Mr. Greenway exclaimed, "You don't say! You don't say! And I hear you trained the white stallion too. But you'll never have any luck with him, my boy, too unde-pendable.". unde-pendable.". The whinny came again and Ken longed to go to her. "Mr. Greenway has just bought Touch and Go, Ken." "Bought her!" (TO BE CONTINUED) The stallion went up onto his hind legs. Ken, standing close against the fence in front of the grandstand, leaned down and thrust his head between be-tween the bars. The blood came up into his face as he saw the fight Thunderhead was putting up. The field was way ahead already, Stag-horn Stag-horn and Bravura, the two likeliest winners running in the lead, five others oth-ers bunched against the rail behind therri. and three outclassed contenders contend-ers trailing hopelessly. Thunderhead stood in the same place, whirling and plunging. Dickson lashed him unmercifully, and, as always, the fury engendered In the horse by this conflict mounted and finally exploded, explod-ed, releasing him from the complex of his inhibitions and flinging him into his smooth running gait. Ken straightened up, drenched in the sweat of relief. But the field was already sweeping around the turn into the back stretch. The grandstand grand-stand fell into a sudden breath-holding silence as the white stallion hit his pace, running, as it always seemed with Thunderhead, in the air, propelled by one lightning-quick hoof-thrust after the other, the unbelievable un-believable power of which kept him hurtling forward at a speed which was rapidly diminishing the distance between himself and the rest of the field. Dickson rode with mouth open and a look of dumb amazement, and as Ken glanced around him, he saw this expression mirrored on a hundred hun-dred faces. The horses swept around the track. Thunderhead passed the tail-end-ers, gradually overtook the next group and at the head of the home stretch passed them too. At that, the grandstand came out of its stupor stu-por and a low, sustained sound burst from it. Thunderhead was pulling up on the leaders, then was abreast of them, then passed them. At this, the grandstand rose, swayed, and burst' into a roar, fluttering hands and programs and hats. Thunderhead wavered and stopped, his flaring, white-ringed eyes and sharply pricked ears turned nerv- |