Ted had ridden many bucking bronchos, but Shan Rhue beat any of them in
the surprises which he furnished. But Ted stuck grimly to him.
He knew that if the bully succeeded in throwing him off his life would
not be worth a rushlight, for Shan was a rough fighter and would not
hesitate to kick him brutally, if he did not shoot him to death before
the boys could come to his assistance.
Thus the struggle went on for several minutes, Shan doing his utmost and
Ted hanging on. But the big fellow was getting winded by his exertions.
He was not in the best condition, for all his tremendous power. He was
going fast, and Ted was badly shaken up and out of breath, also. If
Shan held out a few minutes longer Ted must be thrown, for his hold on
the muscles under his antagonist's arms had begun to loosen, and he
dared not let go for an instant to get a fresh grip.
It was close to the finish, and the crowd knew it.
"He's goin', Shan. A few more will finish him," shouted the gamblers.
"Stick to him, Ted. He's almost in," cried the boys.
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