Dave saw that Hero was gradually warming up to his task. He clucked
softly, and the little black horse pricked up his ears and increased his
gait. Then Dave clucked again--he had heard Todd do this--and Hero went
a little faster.
On went the three boys, the fresh air of the plains and the mountains
filling their lungs and causing their eyes to snap with pure delight. At
that moment each of them felt as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Phil and Roger were now neck-and-neck, with not quite half a mile of the
race still to cover. Sixty yards behind was Dave. Still further to the
rear was Sid Todd, now urging his horse forward, that he might see the
finish of the contest.
"Now, then, my little beauty, go!" cried Dave to his horse, and he
clucked several times to Hero, and dug his heels into the steed's ribs.
He had not miscalculated, and Hero responded instantly. Up he went into
the air, and when he came down his ears were laid far back, and forward
he shot like an arrow from a bow. Dave kept him to it, and gradually he
ranged up between the others.
"Hi, get back there!" yelled Roger, who was now slightly in advance.
"You can beat Phil, but you can't beat me!"
"Not much! He's not going to beat me!" put in the shipowner's son, and
he urged his horse to do better.
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