equipped with wings. Johnson gave a startled glance over his shoulder,
and then exerted himself to the utmost. But he might as well have stood
still as far as any good it did him was concerned. Bert was resolved to
make a decisive finish, and show these doubting Westerners what a son of
the East could do. Over the last hundred yards of the course he exerted
every ounce of strength in him, and the result was as decisive as even
Dick and Tom could desire. Amid a tremendous pandemonium he dashed down
the stretch like a thunderbolt, and breasted the tape sixty feet in
advance of his laboring rival.

Words fail to describe the uproar that then broke loose. A yelling mob of
cowboys swept down onto the field, and, surrounding Bert, showered praise
and congratulations. Swearing joyfully, Reddy, Chip, Bud and several of
the others of the cross diamond outfit elbowed their way through the
crowd at one point, while Mr. Melton, Dick and Tom edged through at
another.

"All right, boys," laughed Mr. Melton, "give him a chance to get his
breath back, though, before you shake his hands off altogether. Let's
work a path to the dressing room for him."

This was no sooner said than done. Dick and Tom, assisted by Reddy and
the others, fought a path through the excited crowd, and at last got
Bert into the dressing room under the grandstand.

"Waal, m' lad, yuh certainly put it all over that maverick," exulted
Reddy; "one time there, though, we figgered he had you beaten to a
stand-still. It was sure a treat the way yuh breezed past him at the
finish, it sure was."