"Senor Bill," Carara ventured, "the fat vaquero, he is no guest. He is one of us." "That's right," seconded Willie. "He's told us all along that Mr. Speed was a Merc'ry-footed wonder, and if the young feller can't run he had ought to have told us." Mr. Cloudy showed his understanding of the discussion by nodding silently. "We'll put it up to him in the morning," said Stover. "If Mr. Speed cannot r-r-run, w'at you do, eh?" questioned the Mexican. Nobody answered. Still Bill seemed at a loss for words, Mr. Cloudy stared gloomily into space, and Willie ground his teeth. On the following morning Speed sought a secluded nook with Helen, but no sooner had he launched himself fairly upon the subject uppermost in his mind than he was disturbed by a delegation of cowboys, consisting of the original four who had waited upon him that first morning after his arrival. They came forward with grave and serious mein, requesting a moment's interview. It was plain there Was something of more than ordinary importance upon their minds from the manner in which Stover spoke, but when Helen quickly volunteered to withdraw, Speed checked her. "Stay where you are; I have no secrets from you," said he. Then noting the troubled face of the foreman, quoted impatiently: "'You may fire when ready, Gridley.'" Still Bill shifted the lump in his cheek, and cleared his throat before beginning formally. "Mr. Speed, while we honor you a heap for your accomplishments, and while we believe in you as a man and a champeen, we kind of feel that it might make you stretch your legs some if you knew just exactly what this foot-race means to the Flying Heart outfit." "I assured you that the Centipede cook would be beaten," said the college man, stiffly. "Isn't Mr. Speed's word sufficient?" inquired the girl. Stover bowed. "It had sure ought to be, and we thank you for them new assurances. You see, our spiritual on-rest is due to the fact that Humpy Joe's get-away left us broke, and we banked on you to