LET 'ER BUCK 



yelling, yipping mounted cowboys ; along by the whoop- 

 ing Indian bucks, shrill ki-yi-ing women and scream- 

 ing papooses; on around the track flies the outlaw, 

 semi-circling the entire eastern end, bounds and bucks 

 his way, pounding the earth in a manner that must 

 rattle loose the teeth and bones of the lithe, boyish 

 figure of Caldwell, who still miraculously riding true 

 to form, through 



"Flip, flop, dive or hunch, 

 Just sticks him like a burr." 



See there! — Half way round to the grandstand 

 something has happened which never happened before. 

 The hitherto undaunted king of buckers is breaking 

 into a run — surrenders — he's been ridden out. But 

 even running Long Tom is hard to ride, and every step 

 by this time is a buck to Caldwell weak as he is. 



"You've got 'im, Lee," came from bleacher and 

 grandstand. 



Bang! went the judge's pistol. "Take him up!" 



Herb Thompson rides alongside, Lee hands him his 

 rope as is his custom and a great help to the herder. 

 Pandemonium breaks loose as Thompson, himself a 

 superb rider, snubs up the first-time-defeated outlaw 

 monarch and swerves him around. Caldwell musters his 

 remaining strength and springs off to one side, landing 

 twelve or fifteen feet away, as is his unique habit in 

 dismounting from bad horses. He figures he has won 

 and would rather take a chance with a sprained ankle 

 than a kick. In the midst of the terrific uproar of 

 cowboy yells, shouts of his name and cheers mingle, 

 he walks a bit unsteadily until he reaches the fence 

 then leans against it. 



218 



