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Show &SsMrf7ed,. U W.H.U. FEATURES- Charley gulped down the drink Rob poured for him and as Rob filled the other glasses, held his out again. "Hope this won't make you take to drink, Charley," said Harris dryly. dry-ly. "Brace up! Lots of people have family secrets to hide!" "We won't give it away, Charley," Char-ley," chuckled Rob. Charley didn't even hear them. He threw off his hat and ran one hand distractedly through his hair. "Maybe "May-be it didn't take," he exclaimed suddenly. sud-denly. "Maybe, later on in the summer sum-mer she was bred by some other stallion. That's it!" he said excitedly, excited-ly, "You said the colt came months later than you expected!" But Ken shook his head. "She was never out on the range again. You set, that was the first summer I had been able to do much with her or ride her at all. She was a two-year-old. And I had her down here in the stable or the home pasture all summer so that she would be well schooled by the time I had to leave the ranch in the fall. And there weren't any other stallions around." "The hell you did!" said Charley. "Well" with some eagerness, "what did you think of him?" "Oh," Ken's voice rose in enthusiasm; enthusi-asm; "just what you did! I agreed with all the proud things you said about him!" "Thank you for that, son!" "And what then, Ken?" asked Rob. "Well, that was about the time to breed Flicka. And you told me to see to it." Rob's eyes narrowed and glanced away as he tried to remember. Nell nodded. "I remember that, Rob. You had moved Banner and the brood mares up onto the Saddle Back. TheTe were just the saddle mares in Flicka and Taggert. And you told Ken it was his responsibility, responsi-bility, and that when she came around he was to take her to the stallion." Rob nodded. "I remember. Well, Ken?" Ken's words came with a struggle. strug-gle. "Well you see, I had been thinking think-ing and thinking about Appalachian, Appala-chian, because we wanted Flicka's foal to be a racer, and Banner was never a racer. And when I remem- THE STORY THUS FAR: Flicka's colt, long overdue, Is born on Goose Bar ranch, high ln the Rockies. Ken McLaughlin, Mc-Laughlin, Flicka's 12-year-old owner, Is starUcd to see that the colt is white, and evidently a throwback to the Albino, a wild horse that Is FUcka's grandslre. Rob McLaughlin, Ken's lather, rides out to bring in Banner, the stallion. With him go Colonel Harris and Charlie Sargent, Sar-gent, millionaire horse breeder. Colonel Harris gets wild ride. Later the party gets Its first glimpse ol the white colt. Nobody likes l but Ken. His mother, who names the horses, first calls it the Goblin, but later changes to Thunder-head Thunder-head for Ken's benefit. Ken tries to keep faith ln his horse. CHAPTER VI They went down to dinner. "And now," said Rob genially, "Ken's got something to tell us. He's going to tell us who is really the sire of that white foal up in the corral." Ken had thought he was prepared for it, but it was a shock all the same, and unpleasant feelings went through him. He couldn't find words. His mind was in a fog. "The sire!" exclaimed Harris, astonished, "Why, what's this? I thought Banner was the sire of all your foals." "Not that one," grinned Rob. "Your mare is perfectly safe, Mort. You'll have a fine little sorrel colt dead ringer for Banner when she foals next summer. I told you, Banner Ban-ner breeds true. Sorrels. Like as peas in a pod." "Hahl" exclaimed Charley. "You're crawling. Just because you've got a throwback, you're going go-ing to disown itl Didn't think it of you, Rob!" "Come on, Ken," said Rob, "who Is the sire of that little goblin up there?" ' Katv without turnine around, Nell nodded. "That's true. She was underfoot all summer. Ken did everything ev-erything but have her in the kitchen." "I did have her ln the kitchen. Mother! Remember the time you put the oat bucket in the kitchen sink, and I called her in, and she walked right In and went all around the kitchen, looking at everything and smelling it, and then ate her oats at the sink?" "Look here. Ken," said Rob, "do you realize that you stole that service? serv-ice? You heard what Mr. Sargent said at dinner that the stud fee for Appalachian is $250.00." "I've always told you, Ken," his bered all Mr. Sargent had said about him, and every colt he had got by him, why then why then" "Well?" prompted Charley. "Well, when she came in heat, I just rode her over there one day it took me most of the day and put her in the pasture with Appalachian and when she was bred I rode her home again. That's all." There was silence for a moment as Ken finished his recital. Suddenly Sudden-ly Harris burst out laughing. Howard How-ard stared In open-mouthed awe at his younger brother. The stunt itself was nothing to the secrecy with which it had been concealed for more than a year. It was a faculty father rubbed It in, mat you cusi me money every time you turn around." "Cost you moneyl" "Well you owe that money to Charley here and you can't pay It. "No, sir." "Someone's got to pay it." "I should say-ay-ay not!"- exclaimed ex-claimed Charley. "If that's the Appalachian's Ap-palachian's foal, you owe me for nothing. On the contrary, I owe Ken an apology. And the nice little mare too." Ken began to breathe again and glanced at his father to see if there were to be any penalties from that quarter. "If Mr. Sargent forgives you the debt, Ken, I've got nothing to say." "Here comes the Goblin now!" exclaimed Howard. Gus had let the horses out of the corral to pasture and Flicka and her foal and Taggert and the geldings geld-ings were coming to water at the round stone fountain in the middle of the Green. The men and boys went down to look at them more closely. 'That's a beautiful mare," said Charley, looking at Flicka's glossy golden coat, her full, flaxen tail and mane, and the gentleness and Intelligence in the golden eyes she turned to them. She mouthed the cool water, letting streams of it run from her muzzle, then turned her head to her foal again. Jerked his head and elbew in the direction of Charley Sargent. "That big black stud of hisl" "Whose?" "Mr. Sargent's." "Ouch!" shouted Sargent. Then, "Do you let him tell whoppers like that, Hob? Or is he given to pipe dreams?" Rob was as astonished as anyone. "Appalachian, Ken?" "Yes, sir." "Why, he doesn't even know Appalachian," Ap-palachian," shouted Sargent. "Ken did you ever see him? He's never been off my ranch, and that's twenty miles away." Ken answered, "He's that big black stallion with three white socks and a white star between his eyes. He hangs out in that little draw by the quakin'-asp and the box elder where the fence crosses your line. Twenty miles away by the highway, high-way, but about eight miles of straight riding across country. Only one gate to go through, and your, buck fence to take down." There was a shocked silence. Then, as Ken's words sank home, Charley Sargent jumped to his feet. His long brown face was serious for once, his big hat a little awry, a frown between his brows. "I don't believe it! It couldn't be! Why that little misbegotten pup up there son of Appalachian!" In two strides he reached Ken, seized him by the shoulder and yanked him up. "Stand up here." He set the boy on the low wooden table facing them all. Ken's face was a little pale, but his dark blue eyes looked at his father without flinching. "Come on. Ken," said Rob, "let's have the story. I'll begin it for you. A year ago last spring we decided Flicka should be bred." "No, sir, it was the fall before that. About Thanksgiving time. You and mother said we'd breed Flicka as soon as she was old enough and I get a foal." I "That's right. I remember now. I You and Howard were home from I school for the Thanksgiving week- J "Dad," said Ken miserably, "Is he really so awful?" i Rob hestitated. "Well, Ken, nobody no-body could say he has good conformation. con-formation. He is shaped like a full-grown full-grown horse, a bronc at that. He'll have to change a good deal." "But he will, dad! He'll grow!" "He'll have to grow in some spots and shrink in others. That jug-head!" jug-head!" Ken looked at the head. If was certainly too large. It had a terribly ter-ribly stubborn look. "Hi, fellah!" said Charley to the foal, then turned to Ken. "Well, you win, Ken. I believe your story. Your Goblin is by my Appalachian, and "Flicka to Appalachian, u-.sv p. m. June 28." Howard was envious of to do unusual un-usual things and then keep them entirely to yourself. Rob said, "You took that long, sixteen-mile ride on your marc?" "Yes, sir. I got off and rested her now and then. You were letting me ride her because you said she had grown so well and I hadn't." It was true. Ken was still no larger than he had been at ten. Rob thought again. "You must have been away most of the day. I don't remember it." Ken said, "It was a day when you i V,-,4 Vioan in trmm AnH if you want papers, you can have them." "I can only have half papers, sir. because Flicka only has half papers." pa-pers." '"You oughtn't to have any papers at all with a stolen service, Ken," said his father. "I'll waive that," said Charley. "Do you realize, Rob, that this little Goblin has Appalachian for a sire, Banner for a grandsire, and the Albino for a great grandsire? That ought to be enough T.N.T. to bust him wide open." Winter again. Blizzards. Wild storms. Days of terrible loneliness and fear with Rob out in weather when a man should be safe beside his own fire perhaps on the highways high-ways hauling feed in the truck, and the day passing hours crawling past with no sign of him returning. return-ing. Then night coming on. She'd! be standing by the north window ( at the far end of the house looking out into the darkness, watching. For j end. "Yes. And when we went back to school, all winter long I was thinking think-ing about that. And when I came home for the spring vacation at Easter, Eas-ter, you remember you let me start working with Flicka and riding her a little, because she was just exactly exact-ly two years old and strong and well-grown. And you said I was light enough so it wouldn't hurt her back any. And I worked her out with the blanket and surcingle and began to ride her. And during that vacation vaca-tion do you remember the time you took me in to town with you and we met Mr. Sargent and had dinner with him at the Mountain Hotel? And he was talking about his stud, about Appalachian. And bra well, praising him and praising him. And then he got to brag well, praising all the colts he had had from him" Ken paused, looking interrogatively interrogative-ly at his father, and Rob grinned. "Yes, I remember. He praised 'em. It's a habit he's got." His lauehed and Sargent's U11U lliuwici nau u-wl, .v..... you stayed there for lunch and you didn't get home until late in the afternoon." Ken was keeping his biggest punch to the end. "Anyway, I can prove it to you, dad," he added. "How?" Ken stepped down from the witness wit-ness stand and vanished into the house. They heard- his steps going upstairs. He returned holding out a paper, folded and wrinkled and soiled. He handed it to Rob who opened it with a mystified air and read it silently, then passed it to Charley. Sargent stared at it a long time, then read aloud slowly, "FLICKA TO APPALACHIAN, 12.30 P. M. JUNE 28th. 'Sargent flung down the paper, sprang to his feet and shouted, "I don't believe it!" then, with one long leap over the flower border, turned his back and went striding up to the corral. "This beats me," said Rob. "I what? What could you see in the inky blackness? Or even if it was daylight what could you see but snow falling and falling, white as a winding sheet? You could see the lights. The two big headlights oij Rob's truck coming,, way off on the ; ranch road. .You could catch them soon after the truck left the Lincoln! Highway, lose them when they curved in near the woods, then catco them again before they came down the hill. Lights boring through the darkness coming slowly down the hill with a load of oats or baled hav (TO BE CONTINUED) hand pinched Ken's shoulder a little harder and he said, "Get on with your story, young man." "Well, so you see when I went back to school atter that Easter vacation I was thinking about Appalachian." Ap-palachian." Rob groaned. "And when Ken begins be-gins to think about something, I don't mind telling you, it's a single track mmd." "So," said Ken doggedly, "when I got home in June that's what I was thinking about. I rode ever several sev-eral times on Cigarette to look at Appalachian." didn't dream it was Appalachian. I knew it wasn't Banner. What I thought was that the Albino was somewhere in the neighborhood again and that he had got to the mare or perhaps that Ken's mind had been working overtime and cooked up some crazy scheme and that he had taken her out to him." Charlie came striding back. "Gimme a drink, Rob if this is true, it's a terrible blow." "It's true all right," said Colonel Harris. "I watched Ken's face when he told it. His face was straight and the story's straight" |