Lucy laughed, but there was a roguish, daring flash in her eyes. "Dad, you do seem to have all the young fellows scared. Some day maybe one will ride along--a rider like you used to be--that nobody could bluff.... And he can have me!" "A-huh! ... Lucy, are you in fun?" Lucy tossed her bright head, but did not answer. "Jane, what's got into her?" asked Bostil, appealing to his sister. "Bostil, she's in fun, of course," declared Aunt Jane. "Still, at that, there's some sense in what she says. Come to your breakfast, now." Bostil took his seat at the table, glad that he could once more be amiable with his women-folk. "Lucy, to-morrow'll be the biggest day Bostil's Ford ever seen," he said. "It sure will be, Dad. The biggest SURPRISING day the Ford ever had," replied Lucy. "Surprisin'?" "Yes, Dad." "Who's goin' to get surprised?" "Everybody." Bostil said to himself that he had been used to Lucy's banter, but during his moody spell of days past he had forgotten how to take her or else she was different. "Brackton tells me you've entered a hoss against the field." "It's an open race, isn't it?" "Open as the desert, Lucy," he replied. "What's this hoss Wildfire you've entered?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" taunted Lucy. "If he's as good as his name you might be in at the finish.... But, Lucy, my dear, talkin' good sense now--you ain't a-goin' to go up on some unbroken mustang in this big race?" "Dad, I'm going to ride a horse." "But, Lucy, ain't it a risk you'll be takin'--all for fun?" "Fun! ... I'm in dead earnest." Bostil liked the look of her then. She had paled a little; her eyes blazed; she was intense. His question had brought out her earnestness, and straightway Bostil became thoughtful. If Lucy had been a boy she would have been the greatest rider on the uplands; and even girl as she was, superbly mounted, she would have been dangerous in any race. "Wal, I ain't afraid of your handlin' of a hoss," he said, soberly. "An' as long as you're in earnest I won't stop you. But, Lucy, no bettin'. I won't let you gamble." "Not even with you?" she coaxed. Bostil stared at the girl. What had gotten into her? "What'll you bet?" he, queried, with blunt curiosity. "Dad, I'll go you a hundred dollars in gold that I finish one--two--three." Bostil threw back his head to laugh heartily. What a chip of the old block she was! "Child, there's some fast hosses that'll be back of the King. You'd be throwin' away money." Blue fire shone in his daughter's eyes. She meant business, all right, and Bostil thrilled with pride in her. "Dad, I'll bet you two hundred, even, that I beat the King!" she flashed. "Wal, of all the nerve!" ejaculated Bostil. "No, I won't take you up. Reckon I never before turned down an even bet. Understand, Lucy, ridin' in the race is enough for you." "All right, Dad," replied Lucy, obediently.