A cheer went up from those assembled, and some hidden force carried the thrill down the train, which halted. Uncle Sam's business could wait. The distance was paced off on the level plain; the judges were set; the scouts and officers lined up. The American's horse's eyes fairly bulged with excitement; he broke into a dripping perspiration, but seemingly no one noticed this but Ermine. He knew that the load of water would choke him in twenty yards. The old war-pony was thin from overwork, but responsive as a dog to his bareback rider, and dangerous-looking to one used to see ponies which show worse in condition than out, by reason of the ungraceful architectural lines. The pistol spoke; the pony gained three jumps from the mark. The American made the best of a bad job, but Ermine was able to turn at the finish and back him over the judges' line. The officer nearly had apoplexy, as he pulled up. He threw himself off the horse and handed the reins to Ermine. The action of both challenge and race had been so rapid and so badly calculated on the officer's part that he lacked time to assimilate the idea that he was a fool. He tried to maintain a composure which was lacking, as every one could see. "If you will get all my clothes, saddle, and gun back from your comrades, I will give you your horse," said the scout. The spectators who knew about the poker game now sat howling hopelessly on their horses' backs. Searles and the others now came to their beaten friend's aid; they shed their plunder in front of Ermine's horse, produced the saddle and gun from a near-by escort wagon, laid them carefully down with the rest, and the victor granted peace. "Here is your horse," said Ermine, and he laughed. The occurrence had a serious side; the three officers were quick to appreciate that. Searles stood in front of the scout and made utterance: "I want to say before all these men that the poker game was not on the square--that we robbed you purposely for a joke, and that we intended to give your property back to you to-night; and I call on all these men to witness my remarks." "Yes, yes," came the chorus; "it was all a joke. Searles said he would give it back. Don't hold it out against him, Ermine," and other reassuring remarks. They recognized the young scout's magnanimity as a conqueror. The laughing ceased; the thing evidently had been carried too far. It would not sound well when told at Tongue River. The unfortunate horse-race had made proper restitution impossible. By this time John Ermine had his clothing and saddle arranged and was mounted. He spoke:-- "Well, if that is so, if it only was a joke, I suppose I ought to say that I sat up half of last night salting your horse. Look at him! He is blowing yet; he is as full of water as a drowned buffalo. I am glad it did not kill him; let us bury the axe." Major Searles and his fellows were unlike many jokers; they slowly readjusted after the shock and laughed with the others.