"If she sees
you now, it will be the end." They watched in silence. "She's
over the first part," Jim whispered, at last.
Douglas drew back, his muscles tense, as he watched the scene
inside the ring. Eloise stood at the pastor's side,
horror-stricken at Polly's reckless behaviour. She knew
Barbarian. It was easy to guess the end.
"She's comin' to the hoops," Jim whispered, hoarsely.
"Barbarian don't know that part, I never trained him," the other
girl said.
Polly made the first leap toward the hoops. The horse was not at
fault; it was Polly. She plunged wildly, the audience started.
She caught her footing with an effort. One, two, three hoops
were passed. She threw herself across the back of the horse and
hung, head downward, as he galloped around the ring. The band
was playing loudly, the people were cheering. She rose to meet
the last two hoops.
"She's swayin'," Jim shrieked in agony. "She's goin' to fall.
He covered his face with his hands.
Polly reeled and fell at the horse's side. She mounted and fell
again. She rose and staggered in pursuit.
"I can't bear it," groaned Douglas. He rushed into the ring,
unconscious of the thousands of eyes bent upon his black,
ministerial garb, and caught the slip of a girl in his arms just
as she was about to sink fainting beneath the horse's hoofs.
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