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Show WMZd.' U W.N.u. FEATURES - -C-''-, THE STORY THUS FAR! Thunder-head, Thunder-head, the only white horse ever loaled on Goose Bar ranch In Wyoming. He Is a throwback to his ereat erandslre, the Albino, a wild stallion. Him 14-year-old owner, Ken McLaughlin, hopes he will become a famous racer. He Is entered in a race meet In Idaho. Rob McLaughlin, Mc-Laughlin, Ken's father, sells off most of his horses and turns to sheep raising. Ken and his brother Howard take Thun-derhead Thun-derhead and Fllcka and rldo Into the mountains. Here Thunderhead finds the wild herd led by the Albino. In a furious furi-ous battle, Thunderhead kills the older stallion, and takes control of the herd. Rob Is as disappointed as Ken when he hears that their "race horse" Is lost. CHAPTER XXIV Rob dropped a hand on his shoulder shoul-der and shook it. "Now go on and get a good hot bath. Put all this out of your mind. Supper'll be ready In an hour and I want to see you eat! And I've got a surprise for you something you'll like. I'm going go-ing to talk it over with your mother first." Ken lay In his hot bath, luxuriat-ilng. luxuriat-ilng. All the sore knotted muscles eased and relaxed, and the feverish i J . - UM .nrnhoe of hay. There Is shelter and food and kindness for all. And the screaming whiteness cannot follow you In. He made several abrupt movements move-ments of his head, then turned and picked his way down the crag, his tail sweeping over the white colt, who carefully followed him. Thunderhead rounded up his mares and headed them north down the valley. When he had them running run-ning he took the lead, with the black mare and her white colt close behind be-hind him. His pace was carefully chosen so that the smallest colt could keep up. What snow there was boiled like seafoam around their feet and there was that sound in the steadying eastern wind that' unvarying roar that would turn into a whine as the velocity increased. They strung out single file going through the keyhole and down the river gorge. Now and then Thunderhead Thunder-head circled to see that there were no stragglers, giving a few nips to keep the tail-enders aware that they were on a drive and expected to keep up. Rplnw on thp nlains. thev soread over to a group of his own. Thunder-1 head tossed his head high over the . crush where he was feeding at the rack and his flaring eyes caught sight of this maneuver. He dropped his muzzle to feed again. Banner j continued to move Thunderhead' s ; mares from where they were feed- j ing over into a corner of the corral and to freeze them there. Thunderhead wormed himself out of the jam. He pursued Banner and neighed challengingly. As the red stallion turned and faced him, they both reared and nipped, then dropped to earth and stood quivering. quiver-ing. In Thunderhead was all the old love for Banner, but there was another an-other feeling too, and it was getting get-ting stronger every Instant. Anger. An-ger. Combativeness. A furious uprising up-rising and outpouring of energy that lifted and stiffened his tail and burst from him in squealing grunts of protest and sent him rearing and pawing into the air. It would presently find outlet in more dangerous dan-gerous action than that. The two stallions plunged past each other again and this time each aimed an ugly nip in passing. I out, kicking and biting, wild with the heat of their blood, and the excitement ex-citement of the run, and the fierce beating of the wind and snow. They neared the ranch in the late afternoon, Thunderhead swinging along at a canter, finding his way through the white smother with the ease of infallible instinct. He was on yam waa uiawu uui ui wc bv. and abrasions. He got the iodine bottle from the medicine chest and attended painstakingly pains-takingly to his wounds. He was dotted dot-ted and smeared all over when he finally sat down with slicked hair and startlingly clean fingernails to the supper of fried chicken and mashed potatoes whipped with hot cream such as only his mother could make. I And again he told and retold the story of his adventure, even to the bit about the black mare who made the dash for freedom. "She was a beauty, dad. She reminded me of Gypsy, only she was bigger." And at last Rob told his boy of the important thing. That none of his plans need be changed. He could still go to Saginaw Falls with Charley Sargent He could still send a race horse of his own in Charley Sargent's express car. There would still be a Goose Bar entry in the races. The only change would be that it would be the two-year-old filly. Touch And Go, instead of the three - year - old stallion, Thunderhead. Thunder-head. And so when the big black Buick rolled down the mountain passes of the Wyoming - Idaho highway on October eleventh there were two racehorse-owners sitting in the front seat, Charley Sargent, quite formal looking in a black overcoat and derby hat, and Ken, feeling at least ten years older than ever before. Thunderhead lifted his nose high and searched the wind. It was a bare craggy peak overlooking over-looking the southern end of the valley val-ley that he had chosen for his lookout. look-out. From here he could see below him where his mares were grazing. He could turn and look at the tiers "Boss! Boss! T'underhead is here mid a big bunch of mares und colts!" ' Thunderhead knew that voice. It went with the oats and the shelter and the kindness. "Coom qvick. Boss! Dere all mixed up wid our mares de stallions stal-lions is fightin' " He knew the other voice too that answered from the gorge, the deep, commanding voice with the anger j in it. And he knew the two faces as they appeared through the driving driv-ing flakes the round pink face with the gray curls framing it and the long dark face with the white teeth showing in a wind-beaten snarl He knew the smell of them, but not this other smell of consternation this smell of shocked horror. Nor the j panic of that voice when It shouted. "Get the whips, Gus! Bring a couple of pitchforks!" Didn't know the arms that flailed him and beat him back with frenzied shouts, "Turn Banner's mares into the other corral he'll follow them!" Even while he plunged past the man and reared again and Banner reared to face him and each aimed a smashing smash-ing blow over the other's neck that landed like a dull thunder-clap, he had to take care to avoid this man who lashed his head and face with a whip, who hung, yelling, on his halter, hal-ter, who interfered in every possible pos-sible way with his fixation, who flung his whole weight and heft against him, turning him, while the other man turned Banner. ... There was confusion flooding his brain . . . snow-wind blinding his eyes. . . . obedience conflicting with libido. . . . The barn. His own stall and a manger full of hay and oats. How had this happened? How had he got of mountains behind away up to the Thunderer In his eyrie in the sky. He could see the clouds rolling around them, he could hear the deep rumble of the giants that lived underneath, the fall of every avalanche, ava-lanche, the crack of every frozen tree; and not a bird nor animal ani-mal could move without his eyes and ears taking note of it. It was an uneven pinnacle of rock on which he stood, with barely room for foothold. His hind legs were braced down and apart. His body was twisted. His head, with its floating float-ing white mane and spear-pointed ears, was lifted high, his dark, white-ringed eyes filled with the wildness of the mountains and the clouds. Dangling from his black - halter was a bit of rope, frayed and worn at the end. A little below him, balked by the steepness of the last sheer ascent, a small white colt stood looking up at him. Now and then Thunderhead's glance rested on him for a second, then brushed past and up again. A new message was on the wind this early morning. There was a - heavy storm coming. The temperature tempera-ture was twenty below already and still falling. The mares and colts were protected pro-tected by a long thick growth of hair which they had started grow- ing In September in preparation for - this early storm. But Thunderhead was warmed only by the inner heat of the stallion. His coat was, as al- ways, silky and shining, scarred only by patches of rough, long hair under his throat, and on his shoulders shoul-ders where he had been wounded. Around the mountain peaks many storms were tossing, rolling down the slopes, colliding with each other, carried on opposing currents of air. A boiling mass of wind-cloud swept north over the valley with an eagle sailing before it. Now and then the storms united and came down in a deep white blanket, then were broken up again and, roaring, separated sepa-rated and moved in every direction. Gradually the smother thickened and snow fell, driving first one way. then the other. Thunderhead reared his crest high Into the storm. His mane streamed to the west. The eastern wind was strongest and would prevail. An easterner. Memory tingled through him and his pawing hoof rang on the rock. ' . When the cold burns too deep. j when there is death in the wind. ' take the way down the mountain. Gates are open Mangers are full Down the Saddle Back they poured at full gallop. his own ground now, and had known every square foot of it since birth. Reaching the crest of the Saddle Back, he halted to survey his domain do-main and his mares crowded up around him. Nothing could be seen through the snow, but to his inner eye, every building, every fence post was visible, and as he plunged down the slope he indulged in some coltish bucks of pure joy. With those thirty handsome mares and colts behind him he could be forgiven for-given for feeling the pride of a young heir when he brings home his bride and displays her to the family. Down the Saddle Back they poured at a full gallop, up the county road the gate was open! Thunderhead Thunder-head made the sharp turn, the mares following close, cantered down through the stable pasture to the corral again the gates were open! They poured in It was already full of mares and colts. All the familiar old smells! Every brood mare as comfortable to him as mother's milk! Oats and hay. The corral and stables. Banner Ban-ner Thunderhead nickered and squealed squeal-ed in an ecstasy of homecoming. He plunged through the mares to the feed racks and tore out a great mouthful of hay Castle Rock Meadow hay that he had been brought up on. His mares pushed in behind him, mixing with the other mares, starting little fights and scuffles.. scuf-fles.. Banner met him In the center of the corral. The two stallions stood nose to nose, quivering and squealing, squeal-ing, half rearing. They were filled with the excitement that goes with the meeting of old friends and something else, too, because of those mares and colts. They turned away from each other and began to investigate. in-vestigate. Thunderhead's approach to the Goose Bar mares was the greeting of old friends, but it was different with Banner. These strange mares were new and exciting! There were so many of them and his own quota was incomplete. With a mere ten brood mares any self-- self-- respecting stallion is looking for more. The mares and colts milled around, crowding the walls of the stable and the feed racks. Banner pursued three of Thunderhead's Thunder-head's mares that were in a little ! group together. His head snaked along the ground. He drove them shut in here? He loved this stau. ne dipped his head in the manger. Lifting Lift-ing it, he listened and pricked his ears and reached his sensitive nostrils nos-trils into the air and fluttered them ... He could smell each one of his mares and colts. They were all there, around the stable, feeding at the racks . . . everything all right ... all safe and cared for while the blizzard whined and the wind seized the-barn and rattled it like a dried pod. ... "Can you beat It? Thunderhead came back in the storm and brought his new harem! Habit was too strong for him." Rob made a practice these days of hiding his temper from Nell, announcing an-nouncing even serious news in a careless manner. So for a moment Nell was deceived de-ceived and turned from the table where she was placing the silver for supper and looked at him with wonderment won-derment and joy. "Thunderhead back again! Oh, Rob!" Rob stamped across the kitchen floor to wash his hands at the sink, and it seemed to Nell that the grin he flung over his shoulder at her was more of a toothy snarl than a smile. "Where is he now?" she asked. "I've got him shut into the stable." "I'd like to see him. I'll go up after supper." "You will not!" As he turned toward her, snatching snatch-ing the towel from the rack and drying his hands violently, she saw the wildness in his eyes. She said nothing more but set the supper on the table, and as Rob went to his place, he leaned over and kissed her and said contritely, "I can't let my darling be doing such reckless things as that at this late stage of the game." Why is that reckless, thought Nell, then suddenly asked, "Where's Banner?" Ban-ner?" The frenzied look Rob flung at her opened up to her understanding the whole scope of this predicament. "I've got him in the east corral with his mares and Thunderhead locked into the stable." "Is he is he safe there?" "Not any too safe. You know that old stable. Horses have -got out of it. Flicka beat her way through one of the windows. Thunderhead broke through the top half of the door ' once hope he doesn't remember it " Rob was wolfing his supper (TO BE CONTINUED) |