"If you kin run half as fast as you kin talk, you'll beat Boise four lengths in the first quarter!" Bud retorted in kind, and led Smoky around the corral as if he hoped that the horse would recover miraculously just to save his master's pride.

The crowd hooted to see how Smoky hobbled along, barely touching the toe of his lame foot to the ground.

Bud led him back to the manger piled with new hay, and faced the jeering crowd belligerently.

Bud noticed several of the Muleshoe men in the crowd, no doubt drawn to Little Lost by the talk of Bud's spectacular winnings for two Sundays.
Hen was there, and Day Masters and Cub.

Also there were strangers who had ridden a long way, judging by their sweaty horses.