What happened was, Mr. Jessup lost the roping contest to this other guy by one-tenth of a second. It’ll take you longer than that to blink your eyes, so that’s how close he come. The thing is, he seems real happy even though he didn’t win.

“We’ll get ’em next time,” is all he’ll say about it.

He and Rick walk with me and Lady to where they’re having the race. This is outside the rodeo part, on a stretch of dirt track with these rickety-looking grandstands on either side. They got this old starting gate they tow around on a tractor. The thing about a quarter-mile racetrack, it just goes flat out and straight — there’s no curve to it.

“Race a Thoroughbred around an oval track, you have to risk your life fighting for position. You have to get inside along the rail,” says Mr. Jessup. “In a straight-ahead race like this, all you have to do is hang on and let the horse run.”

“And steer clear of the other horses,” says Rick. “Pretend they’re cactus and you’ll be fine.”

You never seen such a mess of horseflesh milling around, raring to go. There’s so many horses entered they got to have a bunch of races because they won’t all fit in the starting gate at the same time. Then the next day they have another race, with all the winners, to see who’s got the fastest horse of all.

“Don’t worry about that,” Mr. Jessup says. “Take it one race at a time.”

“We got you in for the third heat,” Rick says. “That way you’ll have a chance to see how they do it, but the track won’t be too messed up.”

I figure Lady is the one who should watch, since she’s going to do the racing part, so I take her under the grandstands, where we can see out through to the track. It’s kind of cool and dim and private feeling under there, like we found a secret place all to ourselves. You can hear all the people squirming around on the seats above us and tapping their feet.

It turns out this was a pretty dumb idea, going under the stands, because we can’t really see that good. All I know is, this bell rings and then a couple seconds later a bunch of horses gallop by, so close together it looks like they’ll get tangled up for certain. Only somehow they don’t. A moment later and everybody is cheering.

Lady, she sees all them horses running and she starts to snort and paw her front feet, like she’s trying to tell me something. ’Course you can’t really know what she’s thinking, but I figure she wants to get out there and go fast, just like the other horses.

When we come back out from under the grandstand, Rick is hopping up and down and cursing. “They can’t do it!” he’s saying. “It ain’t fair! What’s his age got to do with it? Have you seen him ride? Have they?”

Mr. Jessup catches sight of me and he says, “Wait here.” Then he stalks off with his fists balled up and shoved in his back pockets.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“They went and changed the rules,” Rick says. “Now they say all riders have to be at least fifteen.”

I guess I didn’t know how much I wanted to race until they took it away, because it feels like someone punched me hard in the stomach. I don’t know whether to swear or start crying. Rick, he feels so miserable rotten he can’t even look me in the eye. “Somebody is always making up new rules,” he says. “Ain’t we got enough rules in the world already?”

Even Lady looks sort of mournful, and she puts her head down and nuzzles at me, like she wants me to feel better. I’m about ready to take the saddle off her and lead her back to the trailer when Mr. Jessup comes loping back. He’s got his hands out of his pockets but you can’t tell what he’s thinking from the look on his face.

“Well?” Rick says.

“Better get up on your pony, Roy. Your race starts in five minutes.”

Mr. Jessup won’t say what he done to make it okay, but I figure he just squinted extra hard and they changed their minds.

He opens his mouth like he’s got something even more important to tell me, but then he changes his mind and pats Lady on the rump and says, “Don’t you worry about anything. Just stay on the horse.”

When I get over to the starting gate, it hits me that Lady is the only pony-sized horse in the race. The rest of them are all quarter horses, either purebred or mixed with Thoroughbred blood for speed.

“Wait here,” Mr. Jessup says. “We’ll check out your gate.”

He and Rick go off. All the other riders are bigger than me and I can’t really see what’s going on. This scrawny, long-necked guy pulls his horse alongside and stares down his nose at me and Lady. His eyes are small and mean and look kind of like little wet marbles stuck in his face. After a while he says, “You must be in the wrong place, sonny. This is the quarter mile.”

“I know what it is,” I say.

“This ain’t a pony race for kids,” he says.

“I know that, too,” I say.

He stares at me some more with those mean little eyes and then he makes a pruny face and goes, “Just keep out of my way, sonny. You got that? Let the real horses race.”

Without me asking her to, Lady turns around and lifts her tail and leaves a pile of fresh horse buns right next to him. Like she’s saying, That’s what I think of you, mister. A couple of other riders see her do it and they start laughing and one of them goes, “Hey, Mullins, you’re hip-deep in horse-pucky again!” And Mullins, he looks over at us and sniffs like he smelled a bigger stink than Lady made and you just know how he hates us for sure now.

I back up and try to keep clear of him, but Lady, she has ideas of her own, like she’s sassing him, until he finally reaches out and flicks her nose with the tip of his boot. Before I can say anything, he leans over and keeps his voice real low, so nobody else can hear. “Keep that nag away from me, kid, if you know what’s good for you.”

It ain’t the first time I been threatened, but the way he says it scares me some. Like he knows stuff I don’t and can make things happen to me.

Suddenly Rick is there and he goes, “You seen a ghost, kid? You’re looking awful pale.”

I shake my head. Next thing I know Rick is leading Lady up to the gate with all the other horses and Mr. Jessup is there, helping to shoo her in. The trouble is she don’t want to go. You can’t blame her, she’s never seen a starting gate before, or been around so many nervous horses all at once.

Well, what happens is I’m still thinking about what that creepy Mullins said when the bell goes off and the gate pops open.

All of a sudden there’s a cloud of dust in my eyes. The other horses are out of the gate and running hard, and me and Lady are left behind, standing still.

From the grandstands I can hear people laughing and hooting and yelling stuff like, Hey, lookit the kid on the pony!

Finally it comes to me what I’m supposed to do, so I slap the reins and yell “Geronimo!” at the top of my lungs.

You already know about Lady and how she loves to run, and how fast she is from a dead start. Well, she takes off like a high-power rifle bullet, so quick and sudden I almost get jerked backward out of the saddle.

I never even touch her with spurs. Lady’s running so smooth and perfect it’s like I’m hanging on to the top of a rocket that keeps going faster, the faster it goes. I crouch down and bury my head in her neck because the wind is strong in my face, so I can’t really see what happens next.

All I know is, Lady is running through traffic. There’s horses right up along both sides of us and she’s weaving around ’em like she did those cactus. She’s going so fast she’s stretched out flat and low to the ground, and the other riders are blocking out the light.

We’re in the dark between pounding horses with wild eyes.

It’s almost as dark as it was under the grandstands. I can’t hear nothing but the thump of my own heart. I can feel Lady’s heart, too, the same as mine.

It’s like everything slows down the faster we go.

I forget to breathe. I forget about everything. I even forget about winning the race. All I’m thinking about is sticking on that saddle!

Next thing I know, we’re breaking into daylight, and all of a sudden this huge roar comes up.

At first it sounds like a crazy wind, the way it’ll come through an old barn and put the chills up your back. I pull back on the reins and Lady starts to slow down but the crazy wind keeps roaring.

Then Rick and Mr. Jessup come running. They’re both huffing and puffing and out of breath. They got these funny looks on their faces and it makes me think that something bad happened.

“What’s wrong?” I say. I have to shout because that crazy wind keeps on roaring.

Mr. Jessup catches up to us and takes Lady’s halter by the hand, holding her still. He’s still panting some. “Wrong?” he says. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“He don’t know,” says Rick.

Then Mr. Jessup says, “I never saw anything like it in my life. You came from behind and you won.”

That’s when I figure out that the crazy wind is the crowd cheering us.

“It wasn’t me,” I say. “Lady did all the running.”