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Show U W.N.y, FEATURES- .T.. 1 TflE STORY THCS FAR: Thunder- T? fommonly known as the Goblin, is white horse ever born on the s Bir ranch In Wyoming. He grows ' a a mlssnaP60 colt to a powerful unl resembling his great grandslre 'rt every dav. The grandslre Is a wild l oo called the Albino. One day Cob-tinders Cob-tinders Into a mountain valley, ' tt foe Albino, and barely escapes jhli life. After his wounds heal, his s ff.ir.ol(I owner, Ken McLaughlin, be-. be-. i to train him. The McLaughlins , " hope he will develop Into a me Goblin Js difficult to handle, dose dJT ne surrenders 10 Ken an1 -ollicrosJ the prairies. He runs with Chilis ease, speed and endurance. CHAPTER XIII is she approached him, evcry-iig evcry-iig forgotten but the longing for koiess and understanding, he jcied up at her. Her iris-colored fuwere dark with emotion. They ere shadowed underneath, but they at full of gentleness and affec-a affec-a and her smile pleaded for recreation. rec-reation. Rob held out his hand ffcer. She leaned over to kiss him J he kissed her in return. Their its did not quite meet. l"Areyou going up?" he asked. Tes." "Don't wait for me. I'm going read awhile." 'J lie "track" was a half mile oval j the level range north of Lone Creek, about two miles from j ranch house. IMs had' been selected by the rji Immediately upon their arrival Sae from school this summer as yyiderhead's practice and trial ound. There was a natural grand- 'and to one side, a peak of craggy xi spearing up. They had out- althe oval track by setting posts ithe curves. These posts Thun- urhead must understand he was to An outside of, not in. Sometimes he J, sometimes he did not. Not that 'Vdid. not understand! They had linted a broad band of white Atom the course at the finish, just i front of the grandstand and here Tanderhead had run many a mile, 3dericg, no doubt, where was the Acsein it Running to shelter in a Jonn-running away from enemies id dangerous places just even Wing with his own band for fun d exercise on the Saddle Back Jj could be understoood. Eut run- on the flat range, often at top jttd, around and around those TSts. with a small demon yelling , j lop of him and another jumping ifc and down on the rock this was - ncomprehensible. j Tneairwas fresh after the storm, , he range green and dustless. Nell j fas in white linen jodhpurs and ', rhite silk shirt with the sleeves oiled up on her slender brown nns. Her face was without care I f worry, like a child's when a picnic 1 ahead. She sat beside Sargent in pear, pointing out to him the way the track, for it could not be ached by any of the roads on the In the back of the car was How-1 How-1 with the bucket of oats. Just tore they had started they had Hrd a yell, and Ken came run-Iwlth run-Iwlth a bucket half full of oats halter rope. His face showed I'krrassment as he apologized for derhead and stuck the bucket the car. "Just in case in case ' Sot away or something and I 1 trouble In getting him back." V said Sargent, as they drove S. "he gets away, does he? And hard to get back?" said Howard, "he's pretty We haven't been training 3 very long, you know." .Sometimes," said Nell, "he runs of! and doesn't come back r 1 long time. Look, Charley io down this slope here and gb Lone Tree that shallow there." Charley slowed down M the car through the creek. 4jMre does the coir, go?" he 3f8 what we'd all like to said NeU. H came back once with cuts J Watches," said Howard, lean-WWer lean-WWer the back of their seat, is' 5 8 terrille big wound In the S him3" 8aId 8 stallion had ai!ey SarSent seemed to have u dumb' He st00d Poking 0,84 Thunderhead, Ltf??6 flUy Touch AnJ Go. She )Y moved away a little and was ihg qUielly Finally he reached h, I vMmgs, rolled himself a J-Jgtte and took a long puff. he 8ald quietIy' 'TU be p' J. at the coifs head, looked at A piously, the color coming and ..jfJ his face. d that!" said Sargent In his tf'lFU v e "Is Thunderhead out PrV . APPalachIan!" Jftt? lr he's by Appalachian all old I. he?" AftiVhort two Do you-do 1 lleatv. l0ks pretty B00d- Mr' : nothing of a racer-" 8 like any horse I ever . "e. He's like a statue of . I ,hat sculptors think up-all friiS and muscl - that Jerhead's face, eyes, head, V re indeed, the outstanding ,but him. Such a face would make a . person sudde nly sto- m passing, look again the:i slan:! hypnotized. hyp-notized. The intensity of the? Mark eye with the thin thread of white around it the wildness. the implacable implac-able determination the' bignoss of the head the way the heavy neck curved, and drew the chin in to the chest then suddenly flung the head high with the black muzzle reaching reach-ing up the nostrils flaring "I'll be damned," said Sargent weakly again. "Isn't he a racer at all, Mr. Sargent?" Sar-gent?" "He's not a racing type. Not a runner. Not that he might not, perhaps beat a racer ! With that power, no telling what he could dol Is he fast?" "Well sometimes, if he wants to be. He really can run, but he doesn't always do it." "You don't think he's too heavy, Charley?" Nell asked. Not like a work horse?" -"My Gosh, no! Those legs they're strong but they're trim and clean. He's a heavy hunter type. All the power in the world there." At every word waves of hot and cold went through Ken. Praise of Thunderhead! Power? Ken knew his power. Would he ever forget the first ride he had had on him this summer? It was not just the ride. It was an experience of power and will that had been communicated from the horse's body to his own and had left a mark' in his consciousness con-sciousness that would never be erased. He smoothed Thunderhead's nose softly. 'He's strong all right." The stallion's eyes turned a lit- fmwmm, fell mM0H iiifi? "Risling!" Charlie laughed and looked at Thunderhead. tie, fastened on Ken. Ken stared back. Suddenly Thunderhead's teeth bared and reached for Ken's arm. Ken snatched it away and cuffed him. Thunderhead reared, came down prancing. Ken hauled on the reins and shouted at him. Charley stepped back quickly. "Nasty-tempered, eh?" "It isn't that. He doesn't like me." "Doesn't like you! Thats pretty tough, when he's yours and you have to train him." v "I keep thinking maybe he'll get to like me. Mother's the only one he likes. He's never mean to her." "Let's look at the Ally. Why did you bring her along?" asked Charley. Char-ley. "He's very fond of her. She's his little sister. She's kind of a mascot for him." "Oh, she's out of Flicka too?" "Yes. And they always stay together. to-gether. It kind of quiets him, If he should get excited, to have her around." "He gets excited, does he? And mean?" Ken was shocked. "Oh, never mean! But he bucks and fights. Sometimes he runs away with me." "But never mean!" laughed Sargent. Sar-gent. "I see. But can't you hold him in?" "He takes the bit. He's better when Touch And Go's around. He's happier. You see he Isn't a very happy horse most of the time. He's got something eating him, dad says." Sargent was studying the filly. "That's a nifty little nuy." "She's exactly like Flicka was when she was a yearling. When I first got Flicka, she was just about that age and a bright golden sorrel like that, and the light mane and tail. "She's like her sire," said Sargent Sar-gent "She's by Banner, isn't she7" "Yes. and she's very light and fast." You don't say." Sargent was not going to be enthusiastic about a colt of Banner's when one of Appalachian's Appa-lachian's was around. "Yes, she can go like the wind! But of course nobody has ever ridden rid-den her. She just runs along with Thunderhead when we train him, or by herself." "Mr. Sargent," said Howard, "our two-year-olds are going to be gelded right away and dad says Thunderhead's Thunder-head's got to be gelded too. Do you j think he ought to be?" At this unpleasant reminder of the one thing that was preying on his mind, the happiness went out of the day for Ken. Nell's cheeks colored with anger and she turned away and walked over to the "grandstand." "Come along, Howard, give me a hand up here! We'd better get started!" Sargent looked at Ken's white, sullen sul-len face. "What's the matter, son?" Ken gave a little jerk of his head toward Howard. "What he was saying say-ing Jhere. Dad's going to have all the two-year-olds gelded." "When?" "Some time this week. He's sent word to Doc Hicks to come and do It whenever he's in this neighborhood. neighbor-hood. Then dad won't have to pay for his driving out and back just for our horses." "Is he going to geld Thunderhead too?" "Yep." "Well, what if he does? He won't be the only one. They all have to be gelded, you know." "But he's going to be a race horse!" "What's that got to do with it? Race horses get gelded too most of them. 'It won't hurt him. And it may improve his appearance. I wouldn't like to see that neck of his get any thicker." "But he might die!" "Oh, nonsense! It won't hurt him. But maybe, if he runs well enough, we could get your father to change his mind." Ken shook his head. "He never changes his mind." "Never does?" "No." "Well, anyway, let's see what the colt can do now. Up with you." He clutched the seat of Ken's pants, and the boy went lightly up into the saddle. sad-dle. He hitched his feet into the little lit-tle short stirrups and grinned down at Sargent. "I don't usually ride with these short stirrups. I ride bareback a lot. It's kind of hard to get used to. But I can do it." He squeezed his knees together, and bent over the horse's withers like a jockey. Sargent's long brown face was twinkling with enjoyment. "Give him a bit of a workout first to warm him up. Remember, I've an interest inter-est in this colt too!" This was very cheering to Ken as he gave the signal to Thunderhead and the colt started forward. Perhaps, Per-haps, if Mr. Sargent had an interest in him too, he might say something some-thing to his father about the gelding. Sargent stood looking at him as he cantered down the course, noticing his action. Then he climbed up on the grandstand beside Nell and Howard. How-ard. There was a ledge quite high up from which they could overlook the whole track. , Howard held the stop watch in his hand. Touch And Go left her grazing and cantered playfully beside her big brother, down to the end, around the curve, and back again. The white colt moved slowly and easily. After ten minutes or so, Sargent shouted to Ken, "Get him going now, son Let him out." Ken swung around to the starting line and flung the horse over it in a gallop. For a half-hour then, Ken struggled strug-gled to make the colt give a good account of himself. He had very little success. Thunderhead cut a corner once, Ken pulled him up, made him go back and outside the post. Suddenly the colt got ugly-fought ugly-fought for the bit Ken spurred him and reined him back, then lifted him forward into a run. Touch And Go ran with him. By turns Howard and Charley Sargent Sar-gent held the stop watch. Finally they climbed down and Ken rode up to them. His face was flaming, his eyes wild,' the horse nervous and pacing. "Can he run, Ken?" said Sargent. Sar-gent. "What have you been giving me?" "Oh, yes, he can if he wants!" answered Ken passionately. "I'm beginning to think he's too much horse for you," said Sargent. "You know," said Nell thoughtfully, thoughtful-ly, "he really can run., It's quite different from this hard galloping. It's a different gait. Do you remember re-member that black mare Rocket his grandmother?" "I sure do she was almost my mare." "Yes. That one. You remember the time we ran her In front of the automobile and clocked her and she just floated along without trying-no trying-no effort at all?" "I do. Never saw such a gait in my We." "He's got the same gait. He does it sometimes. I wish you could see it. Ken. let's try again. I'll tie up Touch And Go. . I think she distracts dis-tracts him." Nell got the tie-rope, snapped it to the filly's halter and fastened her to the bumper of the automobile so that Thunderhead could not see her. Once more they took their places on the ledge and Charley gave Ken the Bignal. (TO BE CONTINUED) |