"See anything of an airplane as you came in?" the station man inquired. "Yes, just outside Raton. Why?" "Nothing in particular, only Mortley, the manager of the Continental team, was seen talking to an aviator at Trinidad, and the judges have noticed that one plane follows the horses at night." Dillon gave the airplane no further thought as he registered his package, and resumed his way. His principal worry was that Patsy, worn out from his long run of the preceding day, would be unable to hold his own against the Continental horses that day. He resolved to save the little roan every possible mile and let Sagamore gallop freely as he rode from Raton. From Raton to Maxwell the highway passes no towns and few habitations. Mile after mile slipped by as the big horse, with the same gameness that had characterized the Pony Express carriers in bygone days, clung grimly to his pace. Past Maxwell and on to Springer, Dillon rode, turning the package over to Jones long after daylight had come. Dillon had intended to relieve Patsy at Las Vegas that afternoon, but he changed his mind when he saw the condition of the little horse at Springer. Hammond had chartered an engine to take their express car to Las Vegas at once, but as Dillon led Sagamore into the car, he said, "I guess I'd better stop at Watros. Patsy isn't much on speed, and he's about gone his limit at fast running. Speedaway will be waiting to finish at Glorieta, so I'd better relieve Jones as quickly as possible." "But, good Lord, man, how about your own horse? He's carried the brunt of the race so far, and he's just finished running all night long." "I know," Dillon replied, a touch of sentiment in his voice, "but that's our only chance. We must reach Glorieta on even terms or Imperator will nose out Speedaway in the final stretch." [Illustration] As Dillon had predicted, Patsy lost time and the lead in the race during the fifty miles from Springer, though Dillon did not know of this until Hammond awakened him that afternoon. The airplanes and the telephone were keeping a close check on the race and reports were being sent ahead. At Colmor, Patsy had still retained the lead, but north of Nolan the Continental horse had passed him and a fresh horse starting at Wagon Mound had added to the gain. Dillon, Hammond and a Continental rider were waiting at the Watros station when an airplane swept over the crest of a hill and landed in an open space near the change station. The pilot and a camera-man climbed from the plane and selected a position from which to film the arrival of the horses. Then a big black, with four white stockings, rounded a turn and raced up to the station. Dillon gave a start as he recognized the horse. It was August Long's Conquest, one of the greatest racers on the American turf, and Dillon realized anew the limits to which Mortley had gone in order to win.