"They certainly know how to have a good time," remarked Dick. "I guess
it's because they have so few holidays that they enjoy them all the more
when they do come."

Along the streets booths were lined, selling anything from a ten-cent
pocket knife to a blue-barreled Colts revolver. The numerous saloons were
going full blast, and were doing a profitable business. Nobody is more of
a spendthrift than your true cowboy when he is out on pleasure bent, and
the fakirs and saloon-keepers were taking full advantage of that fact.

The party from Melton's ranch, with the exception of the three boys, lost
no time in slaking the thirst occasioned by their ride over the prairie,
and then they all repaired to the scene of the first event on the
entertainment programme, which proved to be a roping and tying contest.
Chip entered this and narrowly missed winning the prize.

"Tough luck, old timer," consoled Sandy, "but better luck next time. You
made a good stab at it, anyhow."

Other events were run off in quick succession, with the excitement
running high and keeping everybody at fever heat. The boys from the home
ranch won their share of the honors and a little over, and were
proportionately jubilant. "An' ef Wilson wins that race this arternoon,"
said Sandy, "the boys from the ranch will feel so dawgoned good thet they
won't be able t' kick about nothin' fer a year t' come."

"Thet's a good one, thet is," jeered one of the townspeople who had
overheard this remark. "Why, that guy Wilson ain't got even a look-in.
Our champ will make him look like an also ran."