The holiday crowd of 6,500 looked as if it had been ordered from general casting by the director of a western movie. At the mile-high, five-furlong race track near Ruidoso, N. Mex., wizened Texas cowpokes in shrunken Levi's clutched $100 bills while they hunted for the parimutuel windows. Dark-faced Apache youths in blue jeans lined up along the rail reading their racing forms. Oklahoma oilmen in neatly tailored riding pants shared tacos and tamales with their Dior dressed wives. Track police sported Stetsons and packed six-guns, consciously copying the deputy marshals who ruled the tiny (pop. 2,500) town in the bad...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
