Then the judges hollered out his name as the next rider out, and about that time the mouse colored outlaw peeked thru the bars of the chute at him and snorted, the rider whistled at the sight of the mean looking head, and, grinning a little, remarked: "I got a hunch that this pony is going to be totally different than any horse I ever rode, but here goes, and I got to wish myself luck." [Illustration: About that time the mouse colored outlaw peeked thru the bars of the chute at him and snorted.] "You'll need lots of that," says one of the cowboys. The saddle was on, the cinch reached for and drawed up to stay, and then the rider climbed over the poles of the chute and took his seat on a back that'd throwed the country's best riders. He pulled the rope rein up just tight enough, worked his feet ahead a little, and setting back some to sort of meet the first jolt. He took off his hat, layed all the balance he could in it, and then hollered: "We're coming out." "Coming out" was right, but "shot out" would of been more fitting in that case; anyway, the judges hardly seen either the horse or the man till both was _out there_, and both a fighting to win.--There was a mighty big surprise showing on all the faces around when as the first big cloud of dust cleared, it was noticed the rider was still _up there_, and what's more, all indicated that he was going to stay there. The judges was a setting on their horses, and pop-eyed with the miracle of the performance looked on petrified. Such a rider on such a horse was seldom seen, and they was so all took up with the goings on, they didn't notice that the rider had rode past the limit, and forgot to fire the gun marking the end of the ride, then somebody hollered and jarred 'em out of the trance they was in. [Illustration: He wasn't caring right then if it was said that he didn't ride the horse to the finish.] The shot was fired, and the report had no more than died down when the rider seemed to quit from there and fell off the horse,--the punishment he'd took in that ride had been enough to do him for many a day to come. He'd felt like his backbone was going to be pushed thru his throat from the first jump, and that feeling had kept a repeating right along with each fast coming jolt till he was near unconscious. Being the rider he was, he stuck there and tried to fight away the dizzy feeling and keep track of the horse at the same time; then after what seemed an hour, he heard a faint echo of the shot, and realized in a way that he'd qualified for first money. _He'd been the first man to ride that horse past the judges_, and that was enough,--he wasn't caring right then if it would be said that he didn't ride the horse to the finish.