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 arriving before the grand stand to find that the passage leading into the arena had been blocked completely by late arrivals, chiefly women. He was too timid, too considerate, to disturb them. Uncle Boley saw him, and waved his hand understandingly.

Texas took up his station in front of the grand stand with the fringe of favored ones who had been allowed to penetrate that far, and one came past on a horse to warn them back close against the wall, and to caution them that they would have to look out for themselves when things began to pop between the ladies and the steers.

Texas watched the work of the first three girls keenly. Two of them were ordinary; one was excellent. But none of them was Sallie McCoy. But he had not expected one of them to turn out to be Sallie McCoy. Surely it was the girl in the velvet dress who was Sallie; and yet—there was something deeper in his heart that denied this; why, he could not tell. Perhaps it was because she was grander than he had pictured Uncle Boley's friend to be, and bolder, perhaps, if that word might be permitted in the description of a lady.

The grand stand was going wild over the last girl. She was the comeliest of the three whom he had seen in the corral, and he thought that if she