At ten o'clock great dazzling white clouds developed from hidden places behind huge peaks, and as they expanded each let fall a veil of shimmering white storms that were hail on the heights and sleet on the paths in the valleys.

These clouds passed swiftly, the sun came out, the dandelions shone vividly through their coverlet of snow, the eaves dripped, the air was like March, and the sunsets like November.
Naturally, Sunday was the day fixed upon for the tournament, and early on that day miners in clean check shirts and bright new blue overalls began to stream away up the road which led to the race track, some two miles away, on the only level ground for a hundred miles.

Swift horses hitched to light open buggies whirled along, loaded down with men.
Horsemen galloped down the slopes in squadrons--and such horsemen!--cowboys from "Lost Park" and "the Animas." Prospectors like Casey and Kelly who were quite as much at home on a horse as with a pick in a ditch, and men like Marshal Haney and Grassi, who were all-round plainsmen, and by that same token born horsemen.

Haney and Kelly rode with Reynolds and Mose, while Cora and Mrs.Reynolds followed in a rusty buggy drawn by a fleabitten gray cow pony, sedate with age.
Kintuck was as alert as a four-year-old.

His rest had filled him to bursting with ambition to do and to serve.