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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19041-8.txt b/19041-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1e690e --- /dev/null +++ b/19041-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7049 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blister Jones + +Author: John Taintor Foote + +Illustrator: Jay Hambridge + +Release Date: August 14, 2006 [EBook #19041] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against +Hamilton."] + + + + + + +BLISTER JONES + + +By + +JOHN TAINTOR FOOTE + + + + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +JAY HAMBIDGE + + + + +INDIANAPOLIS + +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +COPYRIGHT 1913 + +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +I dedicate this, my first book, with awe and the deepest affection, to +Mulvaney--Mowgil--Kim, and all the wonderful rest of them. + +J. T. F. + + + + +A certain magazine, that shall be nameless, I read every month. Not +because its pale contents, largely furnished by worthy ladies, contain +many red corpuscles, but because as a child I saw its numbers lying +upon the table in the "library," as much a part of that table as the +big vase lamp that glowed above it. + +My father and mother read the magazine with much enjoyment, for, +doubtless, when its editor was young, the precious prose and poetry of +Araminta Perkins and her ilk satisfied him not at all. + +Therefore, in memory of days that will never come again, I read this +old favorite; sometimes--I must confess it--with pain. + +It chanced that a story about horses--aye, race horses--was approved +and sanctified by the august editor. + +This story, when I found it sandwiched between _Jane Somebody's +Impressions Upon Seeing an Italian Hedge_, and three verses entitled +_Resurgam_, or something like that, I straightway bore to "Blister" +Jones, horse-trainer by profession and gentleman by instinct. + +"What that guy don't know about a hoss would fill a book," was his +comment after I had read him the story. + +I rather agreed with this opinion and so--here is the book. + + + + + THE THOROUGHBRED + + Lead him away!--his day is done, + His satin coat and velvet eye + Are dimmed as moonlight in the sun + Is lost upon the sky. + + Lead him away!--his rival stands + A calf of shiny gold; + His masters kneel with lifted hands + To this base thing and bold. + + Lead him away!--far down the past, + Where sentiment has fled; + But, gentlemen, just at the last, + Drink deep!--_the thoroughbred_! + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I Blister + II Two Ringers + III Wanted--a Rainbow + IV Salvation + V A Tip in Time + VI Très Jolie + VII Ole Man Sanford + VIII Class + IX Exit Butsy + X The Big Train + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against + Hamilton" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ + +"Très Jolie!" he shrieked. + +"I see the Elefant stamp him." + + + + +BLISTER JONES + + +BLISTER + +How my old-young friend "Blister" Jones acquired his remarkable +nickname, I learned one cloudless morning late in June. + +Our chairs were tipped against number 84 in the curving line of +box-stalls at Latonia. Down the sweep of whitewashed stalls the upper +doors were yawning wide, and from many of these openings, velvet black +in the sunlight, sleek snaky heads protruded. + +My head rested in the center of the lower door of 84. From time to +time a warm moist breath, accompanied by a gigantic sigh, would play +against the back of my neck; or my hat would be pushed a bit farther +over my eyes by a wrinkling muzzle--for Tambourine, gazing out into the +green of the center-field, felt a vague longing and wished to tell me +about it. + +The track, a broad tawny ribbon with a lace-work edging of white fence, +was before us; the "upper-turn" with its striped five-eighths pole, not +fifty feet away. Some men came and set up the starting device at this +red and white pole, and I asked Blister to explain to me just what it +meant. + +"Goin' to school two-year-olds at the barrier," he explained. And +presently--mincing, sidling, making futile leaps to get away, the boys +on their backs standing clear above them in the short stirrups--a band +of deer-like young thoroughbreds assembled, thirty feet or so from the +barrier. + +Then there was trouble. Those sweet young things performed, with the +rapidity of thought, every lawless act known to the equine brain. They +reared. They plunged. They bucked. They spun. They surged together. +They scattered like startled quail. I heard squeals, and saw vicious +shiny hoofs lash out in every direction; and the dust spun a yellow +haze over it all. + +"Those jockeys will be killed!" I gasped. + +"Jockeys!" exclaimed Blister contemptuously. "Them ain't +jockeys--they're exercise-boys. Do you think a jock would school a +two-year-old?" + +A man, who Blister said was a trainer, stood on the fence and acted as +starter. Language came from this person in volcanic blasts, and the +seething mass, where infant education was brewing, boiled and boiled +again. + +"That bay filly's a nice-lookin' trick, Four Eyes!" said Blister, +pointing out a two-year-old standing somewhat apart from the rest. +"She's by Hamilton 'n' her dam's Alberta, by Seminole." + +The bay filly, I soon observed, had more than beauty--she was so +obviously the outcome of a splendid and selected ancestry. Even her +manners were aristocratic. She faced the barrier with quiet dignity +and took no part in the whirling riot except to move disdainfully aside +when it threatened to engulf her. I turned to Blister and found him +gazing at the filly with a far-away look in his eyes. + +"Ole Alberta was a grand mare," he said presently. "I see her get away +last in the Crescent City Derby 'n' be ten len'ths back at the quarter. +But she come from nowhere, collared ole Stonebrook in the stretch, +looked him in the eye the last eighth 'n' outgamed him at the wire. +She has a hundred 'n' thirty pounds up at that. + +"Ole Alberta dies when she has this filly," he went on after a pause. +"Judge Dillon, over near Lexington, owned her, 'n' Mrs. Dillon brings +the filly up on the bottle. See how nice that filly stands? Handled +every day since she was foaled, 'n' never had a cross word. Sugar +every mawnin' from Mrs. Dillon. That's way to learn a colt somethin'." + +At last the colts were formed into a disorderly line. + +"Now, boys, you've got a chance--come on with 'em!" bellowed the +starter. "Not too fast . . ." he cautioned. "Awl-r-r-right . . . let +'em go-o-!" + +They were off like rockets as the barrier shot up, and the bay filly +flashed into the lead. Her slender legs seemed to bear her as though +on the breast of the wind. She did not run--she floated--yet the gap +between herself and her struggling schoolmates grew ever wider. + +"Oh, you Alberta!" breathed Blister. Then his tone changed. "Most of +these wise Ikes talk about the sire of a colt, but I'll take a good dam +all the time for mine!" + +Standing on my chair, I watched the colts finish their run, the filly +well in front. + +"She's a wonder!" I exclaimed, resuming my seat. + +"She acts like she'll deliver the goods," Blister conceded. "She's got +a lot of step, but it takes more'n that to make a race hoss. We'll +know about _her_ when she goes the route, carryin' weight against +class." + +The colts were now being led to their quarters by stable-boys. When +the boy leading the winner passed, he threw us a triumphant smile. + +"I guess she's bad!" he opined. + +"Some baby," Blister admitted. Then with disgust: "They've hung a +fierce name on her though." + +"Ain't it the truth!" agreed the boy. + +"What _is_ her name?" I asked, when the pair had gone by. + +"They call her Trez Jolly," said Blister. "Now, ain't that a hell of a +name? I like a name you can kind-a warble." He had pronounced the +French phrase exactly as it is written, with an effort at the "J" +following the sibilant. + +"Très Jolie--it's French," I explained, and gave him the meaning and +proper pronunciation. + +"Traysyolee!" he repeated after me. "Say, I'm a rube right. +Tra-aysyole-e in the stretch byano-o-se!" he intoned with gusto. "You +can warble that!" he exclaimed. + +"I don't think much of Blister--for beauty," I said. "Of course, that +isn't your real name." + +"No; I had another once," he replied evasively. "But I never hears it +much. The old woman calls me 'thatdambrat,' 'n' the old man the same, +only more so. I gets Blister handed to me by the bunch one winter at +the New Awlin' meetin'." + +"How?" I inquired. + +"Wait till I get the makin's 'n' I'll tell you," he said, as he got up +and entered a stall. + +"One winter I'm swipin' fur Jameson," he began, when he returned with +tobacco and papers. "We ships to New Awlins early that fall. We have +twelve dogs--half of 'em hop-heads 'n' the other half dinks. + +"In them days I ain't much bigger 'n a peanut, but I sure thinks I'm a +clever guy. I figger they ain't a gazabo on the track can hand it to +me. + +"One mawnin' there's a bunch of us ginnies settin' on the fence at the +wire, watchin' the work-outs. Some trainers 'n' owners is standin' on +the track rag-chewin'. + +"A bird owned by Cal Davis is finishin' a mile-'n'-a-quarter, under +wraps, in scan'lous fast time. Cal is standin' at the finish with his +clock in his hand lookin' real contented. All of a sudden the bird +makes a stagger, goes to his knees 'n' chucks the boy over his head. +His swipe runs out 'n' grabs the bird 'n' leads him in a-limpin'. + +"Say! That bird's right-front tendon is bowed like a barrel stave! + +"This Cal Davis is a big owner. He's got all kinds of kale--'n' he +don't fool with dinks. He gives one look at the bowed tendon. + +"'Anybody that'll lead this hoss off the track, gets him 'n' a month's +feed,' he says. + +"Before you could spit I has that bird by the head. His swipe ain't +goin' to let go of him, but Cal says: 'Turn him loose, boy!' 'N' I'm +on my way with the bird. + +"That's the first one I ever owns. Jameson loans me a stall fur him. +That night a ginnie comes over from Cal's barn with two bags of oats in +a wheelbarrow. + +"A newspaper guy finds out about the deal, 'n' writes it up so +everybody is hep to me playin' owner. One day I see the starter point +me out to Colonel King, who's the main squeeze in the judge's stand, +'n' they both laugh. + +"I've got all winter before we has to ship, 'n' believe me I sweat some +over this bird. I done everythin' to that tendon, except make a new +one. In a month I has it in such shape he don't limp, 'n' I begins to +stick mile gallops 'n' short breezers into him. He has to wear a stiff +bandage on the dinky leg, 'n' I puts one on the left-fore, too--it +looks better. + +"It ain't so long till I has this bird cherry ripe. He'll take a-holt +awful strong right at the end of a stiff mile. One day I turns him +loose, fur three-eighths, 'n' he runs it so fast he makes me dizzy. + +"I know he's good, but I wants to know _how_ good, before I pays +entrance on him. I don't want the clockers to get wise to him, neither! + +"Joe Nickel's the star jock that year. I've seen many a good boy on a +hoss, but I think Joe's the best judge of pace I ever see. One day +he's comin' from the weighin'-room, still in his silks. His valet's +with him carryin' the saddle. I steps up 'n' says: + +"'Kin I see you private a minute, Joe?' + +"'Sure thing, kid,' he says. 'N' the valet skidoos. + +"'Joe,' I says, 'I've got a bird that's right. I don't know just how +good he is, but he's awful good. I want to get wise to him before I +crowds my dough on to the 'Sociation. Will you give him a work?' + +"It takes an awful nerve to ask a jock like Nickel to work a hoss out, +but he's the only one can judge pace good enough to put me wise, 'n' +I'm desperate. + +"'It's that Davis cripple, ain't it?' he asks. + +"'That's him,' I says. + +"He studies a minute, lookin' steady at me. + +"'I'm your huckleberry,' he says at last. 'When do you want me?' + +"'Just as she gets light to-morrow mawnin',' I says quick, fur I hasn't +believed he'd come through, 'n' I wants to stick the gaff into him +'fore he changes his mind. + +"He give a sigh. I knowed he was no early riser. + +"'All right,' he says. 'Where'll you be?' + +"'At the half-mile post,' I says. 'I'll have him warmed up fur you.' + +"'All right,' he says again--'n' that night I don't sleep none. + +"When it begins to get a little gray next mawnin' I takes the bird out +'n' gallops him a slow mile with a stiff breezer at the end. But +durin' the night I gives up thinkin' Joe'll be there, 'n' I nearly +falls off when I comes past the half-mile post, 'n' he's standin' by +the fence in a classy overcoat 'n' kid gloves. + +"He takes off his overcoat, 'n' comes up when I gets down,'n' gives a +look at the saddle. + +"'I can't ride nothin' on that thing,' he says. 'Slip over to the +jocks' room 'n' get mine. It's on number three peg--here's the key.' + +"It's gettin' light fast 'n' I'm afraid of the clockers. + +"'The sharp-shooters'll be out in a minute,' I says. + +"'I can't help it,' says Joe. 'I wouldn't ride a bull on that saddle!' + +"I see there's no use to argue, so I beats it across the center-field, +cops the saddle 'n' comes back. I run all the way, but it's gettin' +awful light. + +"'Send him a mile in forty-five 'n' see what he's got left,' I says, as +I throws Joe up. + +"'Right in the notch--if he's got the step,' he says. + +"I click Jameson's clock on them, as they went away--Joe whisperin' in +the bird's ear. The back-stretch was the stretch, startin' from the +half. I seen the bird's mouth wide open as they come home, 'n' Joe has +double wraps on him. 'He won't beat fifty under that pull!' I says to +myself. But when I stops the clock at the finish it was at +forty-four-'n'-three-quarters. Joe ain't got a clock to go by +neither--that's judgin' pace!--take it from me! + +"'He's diseased with speed,' says Joe, when he gets down. 'He can do +thirty-eight sure--just look at my hands!' + +"I does a dance a-bowin' to the bird, 'n' Joe stands there laughin' at +me, squeezin' the blood back into his mitts. + +"We leads the hoss to the gate, 'n' there's a booky's clocker named +Izzy Goldberg. + +"'You an exercise-boy now?' he asks Joe. + +"'Not yet,' says Joe. 'Mu cousin here owns this trick, 'n' I'm givin' +him a work.' + +"'Up kind-a early, ain't you? Say! He's good, ain't he, Joe?' says +Izzy; 'n' looks at the bird close. + +"'Naw, he's a mutt,' says Joe. + +"'What's he doin' with his mouth open at the end of that mile?' Izzy +says, 'n' laughs. + +"'He only runs it in fifty,' says Joe, careless. 'I takes hold of him +'cause he's bad in front, 'n' he's likely to do a flop when he gets +tired. So long, Bud!' Joe says to me, 'n' I takes the bird to the barn. + +"I'm not thinkin' Izzy ain't wise. It's a cinch Joe don't stall him. +Every booky would hear about that work-out by noon. Sure enough the +_Item's_ pink sheet has this among the tips the next day: + +"'Count Noble'--that was the bird's name--'a mile in forty-four. +Pulled to a walk at the end. Bet the works on him; his first time out, +boys!' + +"That was on a Saturday. On Monday I enters the bird among a bunch of +dogs to start in a five furlong sprint Thursday. I'm savin' every +soomarkee I gets my hands on 'n' I pays the entrance to the secretary +like it's a mere bag of shells. Joe Nickel can't ride fur me--he's +under contract. I meets him the day before my race. + +"'You're levelin' with your hoss, ain't you?' he says. 'I'll send my +valet in with you, 'n' after you get yours on, he'll bet two hundred +fur me.' + +"'Nothin' doin', Joe!' I says. 'Stay away from it. I'll tell you when +I gets ready to level. You can't bet them bookies nothin'--they're +wise to him.' + +"'Look-a-here, Bud!' says Joe. 'That bird'll cake-walk among them +crabs. No jock can make him lose, 'n' not get ruled off.' + +"'Leave that to me,' I says. + +"Just as I figgers--my hoss opens up eight-to-five in the books. + +"I gives him all the water he'll drink afore he goes to the post, 'n' I +has bandages on every leg. The paddock judge looks at them bandages, +but he knows the bird's a cripple, 'n' he don't feel 'em. + +"'Them's to hold his legs on, ain't they?' he says, 'n' grins. + +"'Surest thing you know,' I says. But I feels some easier when he's on +his way--_there's seven pounds of lead in each of them bandages_. + +"I don't want the bird whipped when he ain't got a chance. + +"'This hoss backs up if you use the bat on him,' I says to the jock, as +he's tyin' his reins. + +"'He backs up anyway, I guess,' he says, as the parade starts. + +"The bird gets away good, but I'd overdone the lead in his socks. He +finished a nasty last--thirty len'ths back. + +"'Roll over, kid!' says the jock, when I go up to slip him his fee. +'Not fur ridin' that hippo. It 'ud be buglary--he couldn't beat a +piano!' + +"I meets Colonel King comin' out of the judge's stand that evenin'. + +"'An owner's life has its trials and tribulations--eh, my boy?' he says. + +"'Yes, sir!' I says. That's the first time Colonel King ever speaks to +me, 'n' I swells up like a toad. 'I'm gettin' to be all the gravy +'round here,' I says to myself. + +"Two days after this they puts an overnight mile run fur maidens on the +card, 'n' I slips the bird into it. I knowed it was takin' a chance so +soon after his bad race, but it looks so soft I can't stay 'way from +it. I goes to Cal Davis, 'n' tells him to put a bet down. + +"'Oh, ho!' he says. 'Lendin' me a helpin' hand, are you?' Then I +tells him about Nickel. + +"'Did Joe Nickel work him out for you?' he says. 'The best is good +enough fur you, ain't it? I'll see Joe, 'n' if it looks good to him +I'll take a shot at it. Much obliged to you.' + +"'Don't never mention it,' I says. + +"'How do you mean that?' he says, grinnin'. + +"'Both ways,' says I. + +"The mawnin' of the race, I'm givin' the bird's bad leg a steamin', +when a black swipe named Duckfoot Johnson tells me I'm wanted on the +phone over to the secretary's office, 'n' I gets Duckfoot to go on +steamin' the leg while I'm gone. + +"It's a feed man on the phone, wantin' to know when he gets sixteen +bucks I owe him. + +"'The bird'll bring home your coin at four o'clock this afternoon,' I +tells him. + +"'Well, that's lucky,' he says. 'I thought it was throwed to the +birds, 'n' I didn't figure they'd bring it home again.' + +"When I gets back there's a crap game goin' on in front of the stall, +'n' Duckfoot's shootin'. There's a hot towel on the bird's leg, 'n' +it's been there too long. I takes it off 'n' feel where small blisters +has begun to raise under the hair--a little more 'n' it 'ud been clear +to the bone. I cusses Duckfoot good, 'n' rubs vaseline into the leg." + +I interrupted Blister long enough to inquire: + +"Don't they blister horses sometimes to cure them of lameness?" + +"Sure," he replied. "But a hoss don't work none fur quite a spell +afterwards. A blister, to do any good, fixes him so he can't hardly +raise his leg fur two weeks. + +"Well," he went on, "the race fur maidens was the last thing on the +card. I'm in the betting-ring when they chalks up the first odds, 'n' +my hoss opens at twenty-five-to-one. The two entrance moneys have +about cleaned me. I'm only twenty green men strong. I peels off ten +of 'em 'n' shoved up to a booky. + +"'On the nose fur that one,' I says, pointin' to the bird's name. + +"'Quit your kiddin',' he says. 'What 'ud you do with all that money? +This fur yours.' 'N' he rubs to twelve-to-one. + +"'Ain't you the liberal gink?' I says, as he hands me the ticket. + +"'I starts fur the next book, but say!--the odds is just meltin' away. +Joe's 'n' Cal's dough is comin' down the line, 'n' the gazabos, +thinkin' it's wise money, trails. By post-time the bird's a +one-to-three shot. + +"I've give the mount to Sweeney, 'n' like a nut I puts him hep to the +bird, 'n' he tells his valet to bet a hundred fur him. The bird has on +socks again, but this time they're empty, 'n' the race was a joke. He +breaks fifth at the get-away, but he just mows them dogs down. Sweeney +keeps thinkin' about that hundred, I guess, 'cause he rode the bird all +the way, 'n' finished a million len'ths in front. + +"I cashes my ticket, 'n' starts fur the barn to sleep with that bird, +when here comes Joe Nickel. + +"'He run a nice race,' he says, grinnin', 'n' hands me six hundred +bucks. + +"What's this fur?' I says. 'You better be careful . . . I got a weak +heart.' + +"'I win twelve hundred to the race,' he says. ''N' we splits it two +ways.' + +"'Nothin' doin',' I says, 'n' tries to hand him back the wad. + +"'Go awn!' he says, 'I'll give you a soak in the ear. I bet that money +fur you, kiddo.' + +"I looks at the roll 'n' gets wobbly in the knees. I never see so much +kale before--not at one time. Just then we hears the announcer sing +out through a megaphone: + +"'The o-o-owner of Count Nobul-l-l-l is wanted in the judge's stand!' + +"'Oy, oy!' says Joe. 'You'll need that kale--you're goin' to lose your +happy home. It's Katy bar the door fur yours, Bud!' + +"'Don't worry--watch me tell it to 'em,' I says to Joe, as I stuffs the +roll 'n' starts fur the stand. I was feelin' purty good. + +"'Wait a minute,' says Joe, runnin' after me. 'You can't tell them +people nothin'. You ain't wise to that bunch yet. Bud--why, they'll +kid you silly before they hand it to you, 'n' then change the subject +to somethin' interestin', like where to get pompono cooked to suit 'em. +I've been up against it,' he says, ''n' I'm tellin' you right. Just +keep stallin' around when you get in the stand, 'n' act like you don't +know the war's over.' + +"'Furget it,' I says. 'I'll show those big stiffs where to head in. +I'll hypnotize the old owls. I'll give 'em a song 'n' dance that's +right!' + +"As I goes up the steps I see the judges settin' in their chairs, 'n' I +takes off my hat. Colonel King ain't settin', he's standin' up with +his hands in his pockets. Somehow, when I sees _him_ I begins to +wilt--he looks so clean. He's got a white mustache, 'n' his face is +kind-a brown 'n' pink. He looks at me a minute out of them blue eyes +of his. + +"'Are you the owner of Count Noble, Mr.--er--?' + +"'Jones, sir,' I says. + +"'Jones?' says the colonel. + +"'Yes, sir,' I says. + +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'how do you account for the fact that +on Thursday Count Noble performs disgracefully, and on Saturday runs +like a stake horse? Have the days of the week anything to do with it?' + +"I never says nothin'. I just stands there lookin' at him, foolin' +with my hat. + +"'This is hell," I thinks. + +"'The judges are interested in this phenomenon, Mr. Jones, and we have +sent for you, thinking perhaps you can throw a little light on the +matter,' says the colonel, 'n' waits fur me again. + +"'Come on . . . get busy!' I says to myself. 'You can kid along with a +bunch of bums, 'n' it sounds good--don't get cold feet the first time +some class opens his bazoo at you!' But I can't make a noise like a +word, on a bet. + +"'The judges, upon looking over the betting sheets of the two races in +which your horse appeared, find them quite interesting,' says the +colonel. 'The odds were short in the race he did _not_ win; they +remained unchanged--in fact, rose--since only a small amount was +wagered on his chances. On the other hand, these facts are reversed in +to-day's race, which he _won_. It seems possible that you and your +friends who were pessimists on Thursday became optimists today, and +benefited by the change. Have you done so?' + +"I see I has to get some sort-a language out of me. + +"'He was a better hoss to-day--that's all I knows about it,' I says. + +"'The _first_ part of your statement seems well within the facts,' says +the colonel. 'He was, apparently, a much better horse to-day. But +these gentlemen and myself, having the welfare of the American +thoroughbred at heart, would be glad to learn by what method he was so +greatly improved.' + +"I don't know why I ever does it, but it comes to me how Duckfoot +leaves the towel on the bird's leg, 'n' I don't stop to think. + +"'I blistered him,' I says. + +"'You--_what_?' says the colonel. I'd have give up the roll quick, +sooner'n spit it out again, but I'm up against it. + +"'I blisters him', I says. + +"The colonel's face gets red. His eyes bung out 'n' he turns 'round +'n' starts to cough 'n' make noises. The rest of them judges does the +same. They holds on to each other 'n' does it. I know they're givin' +me the laugh fur that fierce break I makes. + +"'You're outclassed, kid!' I says to myself. 'They'll tie a can to +you, sure. The gate fur yours!' + +"Just then Colonel King turns round, 'n' I see I can't look at him no +more. I looks at my hat, waitin' fur him to say I'm ruled off. I've +got a lump in my throat, 'n' I think it's a bunch of bright +conversation stuck there. But just then a chunk of water rolls out of +my eye, 'n' hits my hat--pow! It looks bigger'n Lake Erie, 'n' 'fore I +kin jerk the hat away--pow!--comes another one. I knows the colonel +sees 'em, 'n' I hopes I croak. + +"'Ahem--', he says. + +"'Now I get mine!' I says to myself. + +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'n' his voice is kind-a cheerful. 'The +judges will accept your explanation. You may go if you wish.'" + +Just as I'm goin' down the steps the colonel stops me. + +"'I have a piece of advice for you, Mr. Jones,' he says. His voice +ain't cheerful neither. It goes right into my gizzard. I turns and +looks at him. '_Keep that horse blistered from now on_!' says the +colonel. + +"Some ginnies is in the weighin'-room under the stand, 'n' hears it +all. That's how I gets my name." + + + + +TWO RINGERS + +"Hello, ole Four Eyes!" was the semi-affectionate greeting of Blister +Jones. "I ain't seed you lately." + +I had found him in the blacksmith shop at Latonia, lazily observing the +smith's efforts to unite Fan Tan and a set of new-made, blue-black +racing-plates. I explained how a city editor had bowed my shoulders +with the labors of Hercules during the last week, and began to acquire +knowledge of the uncertainties connected with shoeing a young +thoroughbred. + +A colored stable-boy stood at Fan Tan's wicked-looking head and +addressed in varied tone and temper a pair of flattened ears. + +"Whoa! Baby-doll! Dat's ma honey--dat's ma petty chile-- . . . Whoa! +Yuh no-'coun' houn', yuh!" The first of the speech had been delivered +soothingly, as the smith succeeded in getting a reluctant hind leg into +his lap; the last was snorted out as the leg straightened suddenly and +catapulted him into a corner of the shop, where he sat down heavily +among some discarded horseshoes. + +The smith arose, sweat and curses dripping from him. + +"Chris!" said Blister, "it's a shame the way you treat that pore filly. +She comes into yer dirty joint like a little lady, fur to get a new +pair of shoes, 'n' you grabs her by the leg 'n' then cusses her when +she won't stand fur it." + +Part of the curses were now directed at Blister. + +"Come on, Four Eyes," he said. "This ain't no place fur a minister's +son." + +"I'd like to stay and see the shoeing!" I protested, as he rose to go. + +"What shoeing?" he asked incredulously. "You ain't meanin' a big +strong guy like Chris manhandlin' a pore little filly? Come awn--I +can't stand to see him abusin' her no more." + +We wandered down to the big brown oval, and Blister, perching himself +on the top rail of the fence, took out his stop-watch, although there +were no horses on the track. + +"What are you going to do with that?" I asked. + +"Got to do it," he grinned. "If I was to set on a track fence without +ma clock in my mitt, I'd get so nur-r-vous! Purty soon I'd be as +fidgity as that filly back there. Feelin' this ole click-click kind-a +soothes my fevered brow." + +In a silence that followed I watched a whipped-cream cloud adrift on +the deepest of deep blue skies. + +"Hi, hum!" said Blister presently, and extending his arms in a pretense +of stretching, he shoved me off the fence. "You're welcome," he said +to my protests, and added: "There's a nice matched pair." + +A boy, leading a horse, was emerging from the mouth of a stall. + +The contrast between them was startling--never had I seen a horse with +so much elegant apparel; rarely had I seen a boy with so little. The +boy, followed by the horse, began to walk a slow circle not far from +where we sat. Suddenly the boy addressed Blister. + +"Say, loan me the makin's, will you, pal?" he drawled. + +From his hip pocket Blister produced some tobacco in a stained muslin +bag and a wad of crumpled cigarette papers. These he tossed toward the +boy. + +"Yours trooly," muttered that worthy, as he picked up the "makin's". +"Heard the news about Hicky Rogers?" he asked, while he rolled a +cigarette. + +"Nothin', except he's a crooked little snipe," Blister answered. + +"Huh! that ain't news," said the boy. "They've ruled him off--that's +what I mean." + +"That don't surprise me none," Blister stated. "He's been gettin' too +smart around here fur quite a while. It'll be a good riddance." + +"Were you ever ruled off the track?" I asked Blister, as the boy, +exhaling clouds of cigarette smoke, returned to the slow walking of his +horse. He studied in silence a moment. + +"Yep--once," he replied. "I got mine at New Awlins fur ringin' a hoss. +That little ole town has got my goat." + +"When was this?" I asked.' + +"The year I first starts conditionin' hosses," he answered. + +I had noticed that dates totally eluded Blister. A past occurrence as +far as its relation to time was concerned, he always established by a +contemporary event of the turf. Pressed as to when a thing had taken +place he would say, "The year Salvation cops all the colt stakes," or +"The fall Whisk-broom wins the Brooklyn Handicap." This had interested +me and I now tried to get something more definite from him. He +answered my questions vaguely. + +"Say, if you're lookin' fur that kind of info," he said at last, "get +the almanac or the byciclopedia. These year things slide by so easy I +don't get a good pike at one, 'fore another is not more'n a len'th +back, 'n' comin' fast." + +I saw it was useless. + +"Well, never mind just when it happened," I said. "Tell me about it." + +"All right," said Blister. "Like I've just said it happens one winter +at New Awlins, the year after I starts conditionin' hosses. + +"Things break bad fur me that winter. Whenever a piker can't win a bet +he comes 'round, slaps me on the wrist, 'n' separates me from some of +my kale. I'm so easy I squeezes my roll if I meets a child on the +street. The cops had ought to patrol me, 'cause larceny'll sure be +committed every time a live guy speaks to me. + +"I've only got three dogs in my string. One of 'em's a mornin'-glory. +He'll bust away as if he's out to make Salvator look like a truck-hoss, +but he'll lay down 'n' holler fur some one to come 'n' carry him when +he hits the stretch. One's a hop-head 'n' I has to shoot enough dope +into him to make him think he's Napoleon Bonyparte 'fore he'll switch a +fly off hisself. Then when he sees how far away the wire is he thinks +about the battle of Waterloo 'n' says, 'Take me to Elby.' + +"I've got one purty fair sort of a hoss. He's just about ready to +spill the beans, fur some odds-on, when he gets cast in the stall 'n' +throws his stifle out. The vet. gets his stifle back in place. + +"'This hoss must have a year's complete rest,' he says. + +"'Yes, Doc,' I says. ''N' when he gets so he can stand it, how'd a +trip to Europe do fur him?' + +"Things go along like this till I'm busted right. No, I ain't +busted--I'm past that. I owes the woman where I eats, I owes the feed +man, I owes the plater, 'n' I owes every gink that'll stand fur a touch. + +"One day a messenger boy comes 'n' leans against the stall door 'n' +pokes a yellow envelope at me. + +"'Well, Pierpont,' I says, 'what's the good word?' + +"'Sign here. Two bits,' he says, yawnin'. + +"I sees where it says 'charges paid,' 'n' I takes him by the back of +the neck 'n' he gets away to a flyin' start fur the gate. The message +is from Buck Harms. + +"'Am at the St Charles, meet me nine a. m. to-morrow,' it says. + +"This Harms duck is named right, 'cause that's what he does to every +guy he meets. He's so crooked he can sleep on a corkscrew. When there +ain't nobody else around he'll take money out of one pocket 'n' put it +in another. He's been ruled off twict 'n' there's no chance fur him to +get back. I wouldn't stand fur him only I'm in so bad I has to do +somethin'. + +"'If he takes any coin from me he'll have to be Hermann,' I says to +myself, 'n' I shows up at the hotel the next mawnin'. + +"Harms is settin' in the lobby readin' the dope-sheet. I pipes him off +'n' he don't look good to me fur a minute, but I goes over 'n' shakes +his mitt. + +"'Well, Blister, old scout, how're they breakin'?' he says. + +"'So, so,' I says. + +"'That right?' he says. 'I hears different. Fishhead Peters tells me +they've got you on the ropes.' + +"'What th' hell does that gassy Fishhead know about me?' I says. + +"'Cut out the stallin',' he says. 'It don't go between friends. Would +you like to git a-holt of a new roll?' + +"'I don't mind tellin' you that sooner 'n have my clothes tore I lets +somebody crowd a bundle of kale on to me,' I says. + +"'That sounds better,' he says. 'Come on--we'll take a cab ride.' + +"'Where we goin'?' I asks him, as we gets into a cab. + +"'Goin' to look at a hoss,' he says. + +"'What fur?' I says. + +"'Wait till we git there 'n' I'll tell you,' he says. + +"We rides fur about a hour 'n' pulls up at a barn out in the edge of +town. We goes inside 'n' there's a big sorrel geldin', with a blaize +face, in a box-stall. + +"'Look him over,' says Harms. I gets one pike at the hoss-- + +"'Why! it's ole Friendless!' I says. + +"'Look close,' he says. 'Wait till I get him outside.' + +"I looks the hoss over careful when he's outside in the light, 'n' I +don't know what to think. First I think it's Friendless 'n' then I +think maybe it ain't. + +"'If it ain't Friendless, it's his double!' I says at last. 'But I +think Friendless has a white forefoot.' + +"'Well, it ain't Friendless,' says Harms as he leads the hoss into the +barn. 'And you're right about the white foot.' + +"Now, Friendless is a bird that ain't started fur a year. Harms or +some of his gang used to own him, 'n' _believe me_, he can _ramble +some_ if everythin' 's done to suit him. He's a funny hoss, 'n' has +notions. If a jock'll set still 'n' not make a move on him, Friendless +runs a grand race. But if a boy takes holt of him or hits him with the +bat, ole Friendless says, 'Nothin' doin' to-day!' 'n' sulks all the +way. He'd have made a great stake hoss only he's dead wise to how much +weight he's packin'. He'll romp with anythin' up to a hundred 'n' ten, +but not a pound over that can you slip him. Looks like he says to +hisself, 'They must think I'm a movin' van,' 'n' he lays his ole ears +back, 'n' dynamite won't make him finish better'n fourth. This little +habit of his'n spoils him 'cause he's too good, 'n' the best he gets +from a handicapper is a hundred 'n' eighteen--that kind of weight lets +him out. + +"Goin' back in the cab Harms tells me why he sends fur me. This dog +he's just showed me 's named Alcyfras. He's been runnin' out on the +coast 'n' he's a mutt--he can't beat a fat man. Harms sees him one day +at Oakland, 'n' has a guy buy him. + +"Harms brings this pup back East. He has his papers 'n' description +all regular. The guy that buys him ain't wise--he's just a boob Harms +is stallin' with. What he wants me to do is to take the hoss in my +string, get him identified 'n' start him a couple of times; then when +the odds is real juicy I'm to start Friendless under the dog's name 'n' +Harms 'n' his gang'll bet him to a whisper at the poolrooms in Chicago +'n' New York. + +"'Where's Friendless now?' I asks him. + +"'They're gettin' him ready on a bull-ring up in Illinois,' says Harms. +'He's in good shape 'n' 'll be dead ripe time we get ready to ship him +down here. I figure we'll put this gag across about Christmas.' + +"'What does the boy wonder get fur swappin' mules with the +Association?' I says. 'I'm just dyin' to know what Santa Claus'll +bring little Alfred.' + +"'You get all expenses, twenty-five bucks a week, 'n' a nice slice of +the velvet when we cleans up,' says Harms. + +"'Nix, on that noise!' says I. 'If you or some other benevolent gink +don't crowd five hundred iron dollars on G. Percival the day before the +bird flies, he won't leave the perch.' + +"'Don't you trust me?' says Harms. + +"'Sure,' I says, 'better'n Cassie Chadwick.' + +"He argues, but it don't get him nothin' so he says he'll come across +the day before Friendless brings home the bacon, 'n' I make him cough +enough to pay what I owes. The next day a swipe leads Alcyfras out to +the track. + +"'What's the name of that dog?' Peewee Simpson yells, as I'm +cross-tyin' the hoss at the stall door. + +"'Alcyfras,' I says, as I pulls the blanket off. Peewee comes over 'n' +looks at the hoss a minute. + +"'Alcy nothin'!' he says. 'If that ain't Friendless, I never sees him.' + +"I digs up the roll Harms give me. + +"I'll gamble this pinch of spinach his name is Alcyfras,' I says. + +"'You kin name what you like far as I'm concerned, 'n' change it every +mawnin' before breakfast,' says Peewee. 'But if you starts him as +anythin' but Friendless we don't see your freckled face 'round here no +more.' + +"By this time a bunch has gathered 'n' soon there's a swell argument +on. One guy'll say it's Friendless 'n' another 'll say it ain't. +Finally somebody says to send fur Duckfoot Johnson, who swiped +Friendless fur two years. They send for him. + +"When Duckfoot comes he busts through the crowd like he's the paddock +judge. + +"'Lemme look at dis hoss,' he says. + +"Everybody draws back 'n' Duckfoot looks the hoss over 'n' then runs +his hand under his barrel close to the front legs. + +"'No, sah, dis ain' Frien'less,' he says. 'Frien'less has a white foot +on de off front laig and besides dat he has a rough-feeling scab on de +belly whar he done rip hisself somehow befo' I gits him. Dis dawg am +smooth as a possum.' + +"That settles all arguments. You can't fool a swipe 'bout a hoss he's +taken care of. He knows every hair on him. + +"One day I'm clockin' this Alcyfras while a exercise-boy sends him +seven-eights. When I looks at my clock I thinks they ought to lay a +thousand-to-one against the mutt, after he starts a couple of times. +Just then somethin' comes 'n' stands in front of me 'n' begins to make +little squeaky noises. + +"'Are you Mr. Blister?' it says. + +"I bats my eyes 'n' nods. + +"'I've got 'em again,' I thinks. + +"'Oh, what a relief!' it squeaks. 'I just thought I'd never find you. +I've been looking all over the race course for you!' + +"'Gracious! Ferdy, you've had a awful time, ain't you?' I says. 'If +you want to stay out of trouble, read your _Ladies' Home Journal_ more +careful.' + +"'My name is Alcibides Tuttle,' says pink toes, drawin' hisself up. +'And I am the owner of the horse called Alcyfras. I purchased this +animal upon the advice of my friend, Mr. Harms, whom I met in San +Francisco.' + +"Say! I've worked fur some nutty owners, but this yap's the limit. + +"'Well, Alci, here comes Alcy now,' I says, as the boy comes up with +the dog, 'n' my new boss stretches his number three neck out of his +number nine collar 'n' blinks at the hoss. + +"Alcibides comes back to the stall with me 'n' from then on he sticks +to me tighter 'n a woodtick. He's out to the track every mawnin' by +nine 'n' he don't leave till after the races. He asks me eighty-seven +squeaky questions a minute all the time we're together. I calls him +'n' his hoss both Alcy fur a while, but I changes him to Elsy--that was +less confusin' 'n' it suits him better. + +"The next week I starts Alcyfras among a bunch of crabs in a seven +furlong sellin' race, 'n' the judges hold up his entrance till I can +identify him. I hands them his papers 'n' they looks up the +description of Friendless in the stud-book, where it shows he's got one +white foot. Then they wire to the breeder of Alcyfras 'n' to the +tracks in California where the dog has started. The answers come back +all proper 'n' to cinch it I produce Elsy as owner. They look Elsy +over while he tells 'em he's bought the hoss. + +"'Gentlemen,' says Colonel King to the other judges, 'the mere sight of +Mr. Tuttle has inspired me with full confidence in his entry and +himself.' He bows to Elsy 'n' Elsy bows to him. The rest of the +judges turn 'round 'n' look at somethin' over across the center-field. + +"I tells Elsy his hoss is all to the merry, but we don't want him to +win till the odds get right. He's standin' beside me at the race, 'n' +Alcyfras runs next to last. + +"'Of course, I realize you are more familiar with horse racing than +myself,' he says; 'but I think you should have allowed him to do a +little better. What method did you employ to make him remain so far in +the rear?' + +"'I tells the jock to pull him,' I says. The boy was usin' the bat +half the trip, but Elsy never tumbles. + +"'What do you say to a jockey when you desire him to lose?' Elsy asks +me. + +"'I just say--"Grab this one,"' I says. + +"'What do you say when you require him to win?' he squeaks. + +"'I don't say nothin'. I hands him a ticket on the hoss 'n' the jock +wins if he has to get down 'n' carry the dog home,' I says. + +"Not long after this, Friendless gets in from Illinois. I look him +over in the car 'n' I see he's not ready. He's not near ready. + +"'What kind of shoemakers give this hoss his prep.?' I asks Harms. + +"'What's wrong with him?' he says. 'He looks good to me.' + +"'He ain't ready,' I says. 'Look at him 'n' feel him! He'll need ten +days more work 'n' a race under his belt 'fore he's safe to bet real +money on.' + +"Harms buys some stuff at a drug store, 'n' gets busy with the white +fore-foot. + +"'Only God A'mighty can make as good a sorrel as that!' he says when +he's through. 'Here's the can of dope. Don't let her fade.' + +"'What are you goin' to do about this Elsy person?' I says. 'While I +ain't sayin' it's pure joy to have him around, I ain't got the heart to +hand it to him. I don't mind trimmin' boobs--that's what they're +for--but this Elsy thing is too soft. He must be in quite a wad on +this bum hoss of his'n.' + +"'Who's Elsy?' says Harms. + +"I tells him, 'n' he laughs. + +"'Is that what you call him?' he says. 'What's bitin' you--ain't +Friendless goin' to win a nice purse for him?' + +"About ten o'clock that night Alcyfras goes out one gate 'n' Friendless +comes in another. I keeps the foot stained good, 'n' shuts the stall +door whenever Duckfoot shows up. In ten days the hoss is right on edge +'n' one race'll put the finish on him, so I enter him, in a bunch of +skates, as Alcyfras. I gives the mount to Lou Smith--he ain't much of +a jock, but he'll ride to orders. Just before the race I has a heart +to heart talk with Lou. + +"'Fur this hoss to win you don't make a move on him,' I says. 'If you +hand him the bat or take hold of him at the get-away he sulks.' + +"'All right, I lets him alone,' says Lou. + +"'When I'm ready fur you to let him alone I slips you a nice ticket on +this bird. You ain't got a ticket to-day, have you?' I says. + +"'Not so's you could notice,' says Lou. + +"'Are you hep?' I says. + +"'I got-cha, Bo,' says Lou. + +"I see Lou's arm rise 'n' fall a couple of times at the start 'n' ole +Friendless finished fifth, his ears laid back, sulkier 'n a grass widow +at a married men's picnic. + +"'You let him do better to-day,' says Elsy. 'Isn't it time to allow +him to win?' + +"'He wins his next out,' I says. + +"I tell Harms we're ready fur the big show 'n' I looks fur a nice race +to drop the good thing into. But it starts to rain 'n' it keeps it up +a week. Friendless ain't a mudder 'n' we has to have a fast track fur +our little act of separating the green stuff from the poolrooms. I'm +afraid the bird stales off if I don't get a race into him, so I enters +him among a pretty fair bunch of platers, to keep him on edge. + +"Three days before the race the weather gets good 'n' the track begins +to dry out fast. I see it's goin' to be right fur my race 'n' I meets +Harms 'n' tells him to wire his bunch to bet their heads off. + +"'I don't like this race,' he says, when he looks at the entries. +'There's two or three live ones in here. This Black-jack ain't such a +bad pup, 'n' this here Pandora runs a bang-up race her last out. Let's +wait fur somethin' easier.' + +"'Well, if you ain't a sure-thing better, I never gets my lamps on +one!' I says. 'Don't you want me to saw the legs off the rest of them +dogs to earn my five hundred? You must have forgot ole Friendless. +He's only got ninety-six pounds up! He'll tin can sure! He kin fall +down 'n' roll home faster than them kind of hosses.' + +"But Harms won't take a chance, so I goes back to the track 'n' I was +sore. + +"'That guy's a hot sport, not!' I thinks. + +"I hates to tell Elsy the hoss he thinks is his won't win--he'd set his +little heart on it so. I don't tell him till the day before the race, +'n' he gets right sassy about it. I never see him so spunky. + +"'As owner, I insist that you allow Alcyfras to win this race,' he +says, 'n' goes away in a pet when I tells him nix. + +"The day of the race I don't see Elsy at all. + +"'You ain't got a ticket to-day, 'n' you know the answer,' I says to +Lou Smith as the parade starts. He don't say nothin' but nods, so I +think he's fixed. + +"When I come through the bettin' ring I can't believe my eyes. There's +Alcyfras at four-to-one all down the line. He opened at fifty, so +somebody has bet their clothes on him. + +"'Where does all this play on Alcyfras come from?' I says to a booky. + +"'A lost shrimp wanders in here and starts it,' says the booky. + +"'What does he look like?' I says. + +"'Like a maiden's prayer,' says the booky, 'n' I beats it out to the +stand. + +"Elsy is at the top of the steps lookin' kind of haughty, 'n' +say!--he's got a bundle of tickets a foot thick in his hand. + +"'What dead one's name is on all them soovenirs?' I says, pointin' to +the tickets. + +"'Mr. Blister,' he says, 'after our conversation yesterday I made +inquiry concerning the rights of a trainer. I was informed that a +trainer, as a paid employee, is under the direction of the owner--his +employer. You refused to allow my horse to win, contrary to my wishes. +You had no right to do so. I intend that he _shall_ win, and have +wagered accordingly--these tickets are on Alcyfras.' He's nervous 'n' +fidgity, 'n' his voice is squeakier 'n ever. + +"'Well, Mr. Belmont,' I says, 'did you happen to give instructions to +any more of your employees, your jockey, fur instance?' + +"'I have adopted the method you informed me was the correct one,' he +says, swellin' up. 'I gave a ticket at fifty-to-one calling for one +hundred and two dollars to Mr. Smith, and explained to him that I was +the owner.' + +"Before Elsy gets through I'm dopey. I looks over his tickets 'n' he +figures to win eight thousand to the race. I have two iron men in my +jeans--I don't even go down 'n' bet it. + +"'What's the use?' I says to myself. + +"I can't hardly see the race, I'm so groggy from the jolt Elsy hands +me. Friendless breaks in front and stays there all the way. Lou Smith +just sets still 'n' lets the hoss rate hisself. That ole hound comes +down the stretch a-rompin', his ears flick-flackin' 'n' a smile on his +face. He wins by five len'ths 'n' busts the track record fur the +distance a quarter of a second. + +"Then it begins to get brisk around there. I figger to have Alcyfras +all warmed up outside the fence the day Friendless wins. After the +race I'd put _him_ in the stall 'n' send Friendless out the gate. +Elsy, practisin' the owner act, has gummed the game--Alcyfras is over +in the other end of town. + +"Ole Friendless bustin' the track record is the final blow. I don't +hardly get to the stall 'fore here comes the paddock judge 'n' his +assistant. + +"'We want this hoss and you, too, over at the paddock,' he says. +'What's the owner's name?' + +"'Alcibides Tuttle,' I says. + +"'Is that all?' says the paddock judge. 'Go get him, Billy!' he says +to his assistant. 'You'll likely find him cashin' tickets.' + +"When we gets to the paddock, there's Colonel King and the rest of the +judges. + +"'Take his blanket off,' says the colonel, when we leads in the hoss. + +"'He's red-hot, Colonel,' I says. + +"'So am I,' says the colonel. 'Who was caretaker for the horse +Friendless when he was racing?' he asks some of the ginnies. + +"'Duckfoot Johnson,' says the whole bunch at once. + +"'Send for him,' says the colonel. + +"'I's hyar, boss,' says Duckfoot, from the back of the crowd. + +"'Come and look this horse over,' says the colonel. + +"'I done looked him over befo', boss,' says Duckfoot, when he gets to +the colonel. + +"'When?' says the colonel. 'When did you see him?' + +"''Bout a month ago,' says Duckfoot. + +"'Did you recognize him?' says the colonel. + +"'Yes, sah,' says Duckfoot, 'I done recnomize him thoully fum his haid +to his tail, but I ain' never seed him befo'.' + +"'Recnomize him again,' the colonel tells him. + +"'Boss,' says Duckfoot, 'some folks 'low dis hoss am Frien'less, but +hit ain'. Ef hits Frien'less, an' yo' puts yo' han' hyar on his belly +dey is a rough-feelin' scab. Dis hoss am puffeckly smo-o--' then he +stops 'n' begins to get ashy 'round the mouth. + +"'Well?' says the colonel. 'What's the matter?' + +"'Lawd Gawd, boss! _Dis am Frien'less . . . Hyar's de scah_!' says +Duckfoot, his eyes a-rollin'. Then he goes 'round 'n' looks at the +hoss in front. 'Whar his white foot at?' he asks the colonel. + +"'That's what we are about to ascertain,' says the colonel. 'Boy,' he +says to a ginny, 'run out to the drug store with this dollar and bring +me back a pint of benzine and a tooth-brush.' + +"The ginny beats it. + +"'You may blanket this horse now,' the colonel says to me. + +"When the ginny gets back, Colonel King pours the benzine on the +tooth-brush 'n' goes to work on the off-forefoot. It ain't long till +it's nice 'n' white again. + +"'That is most remarkable!' says Elsy, who's watchin' the colonel. + +"'In my opinion, Mr. Tuttle,' says the colonel, 'the only remarkable +feature of this affair is yourself. I can't get you properly placed. +The Association will take charge of this horse until the judges rule.' + +"The next day the judges send fur me 'n' Elsy. It don't take Colonel +King thirty seconds to rule me off--I don't get back fur two years, +neither! Then the colonel looks at Elsy. + +"'Mr. Tuttle,' he says, 'if your connection with this business is as +innocent as it seems, you should be protected against a further +appearance on the turf. On the other hand, if you have acted a part in +this little drama, the turf should be protected against you. In either +case the judges desire to bring your career as an owner to a close; and +we hereby bar you and your entries from all tracks of the Association. +This is final and irrevocable.' + +"Three years after that I'm at Hot Springs, 'n' I drops into McGlade's +place one night to watch 'em gamble. There's a slim guy dealin' faro +fur the house, 'n' he's got a green eye-shade on. All of a sudden he +looks up at me. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'do you ever tumble there's two ringers in the New +Awlins deal? Me 'n' Buck Harms has quite a time puttin' it +over--without slippin' you five hundred.' + +"It's Elsy! 'N' say!--_his voice ain't any squeakier 'n mine_!" + + + + +WANTED--A RAINBOW + +At our last meeting Blister had told me of a "ringing" in years gone by +that had ended disastrously for him. And now as we idled in the big +empty grand-stand a full hour before it would be electrified by the +leaping phrase, "They're off!" I desired further reminiscences. + +"Ringing a horse must be a risky business?" I ventured. + +"Humph!" grunted Blister, evidently declining to comment on the obvious. +Then he glanced at me with a dry whimsical smile. "I see that little ole +pad stickin' out of your pocket," he said. "Ain't she full of race-hoss +talk yet?" + +"Always room for one more," I replied, frankly producing the note-book. + +"Well, I guess I'm the goat," he said resignedly. "I _had_ figured to +sick you on to Peewee Simpson to-day, but he ain't around, so I'll spill +some chatter about ringin' a hoss among the society bunch one time, 'n' +then I'll buy a bucket of suds." + +"_I'll_ buy the beer," I stated with emphasis. + +"All right--just so we get it--I'll be dryer'n a covered bridge," said +Blister. + +"This ringin' I mentions," he went on, "happens while I'm ruled off. + +"At the get-away I've got a job with a Chicago buyer, who used to live in +New York. This guy has a big ratty barn. He deals mostly in broken-down +skates that he sells to pedlers 'n' cabmen. Once in a while he takes a +flier in high-grade stuff, 'n' one day he buys a team of French coach +hosses from a breedin' farm owned by a millionaire. + +"Believe me they was a grand pair--seal brown, sixteen hands 'n' haired +like babies. They fans their noses with their knees, when get's the +word, 'n' after I sits behind 'em 'n' watches their hock-action fur a +while I feels like apologizin' to 'em fur makin' 'em haul a bum like me. + +"These dolls go East,' says the guy I works fur. 'They don't pull no +pig-sticker in this burg. They'll be at the Garden so much they'll head +fur Madison Square whenever they're taken out.' + +"He ships the pair East 'n' sends me with 'em as caretaker. I deliver +'em to a swell sales company up-town in New York. + +"This concern has some joint--take it from me--every floor is just +bulgin' with hosses that's so classy they sends 'em to a manicure parlor +'stead of a blacksmith's shop. + +"There's a big show-ring, with a balcony all 'round it, on the top floor. +They take my pair up there 'n' hook 'em to a hot wagon painted yellow, +'n' the company's main squeeze, named Brown, comes up to see 'em act. +I'm facin' the door just as a guy starts to lead a hoss into the +show-ring. The pair swings by, this hoss shies back sudden 'n' I see him +make a queer move with his off rear leg. Brown don't see it--he's got +his back to the door. + +"The guy leads the hoss up to us. + +"'Here's that hunter I phoned you about, Mr. Brown,' he says. The hoss +is a toppy trick--bright bay, short backed, good coupled 'n' 'll weigh +eleven hundred strong. But he's got a knot on his near-fore that shows +plain. + +"'I thought you told me he was sound?' says Brown, lookin' at the knot. + +"'What's the matter with you, Mr. Brown?' says the guy. 'That little +thing don't bother him. Any eight-year-old hunter that knows the game is +bound to be blemished in front.' + +"'Can you tell an unsound one when you look at him?' Brown asks me. + +"'I can smell a dink a mile off,' I says. + +"'Here's an outside party,' says Brown; 'let's hear what he has to say. +Feel that bump, young man!' he says to me. + +"I runs my hand over the knot. + +"'That don't hurt him,' I says. 'It's on the shin 'n' part of it's thick +skin.' + +"'There!' says the guy. 'Your own man's against you.' + +"'He's not my man,' says Brown, lookin' at me disgusted. + +"'This ain't my funeral,' I says to Brown. ''N' I ain't had a call to +butt in. If you tells me to butt--I butts.' + +"'Go to it,' says Brown. + +"'Do you throw a crutch in with this one?' I says to the guy. + +"'What does he need a crutch for?' he says, givin' me a sour look. + +"I takes the hoss by the head, backs him real sudden, 'n' he lifts the +off-rear high 'n' stiff. + +"'He's a stringer,' I says. + +"Brown gives the guy the laugh. + +"'You might get thirty dollars from a Jew pedler for him,' he says. +'He'll make a high-class hunter--for paper, rags and old iron.' + +"'How did you know that horse was string-halted so quick?' says Brown to +me when the guy has gone. + +"'I told you I can smell a dink,' I says. But I don't tell him what I +sees at the door. + +"'I think we could use you and your nose around here,' he says. 'Are you +stuck on Chicago?' + +"'Me fur this joint,' I says, lookin' 'round. 'Do I have to get my hair +waved more 'n' twict a week?' + +"'We'll waive that in your case,' he says, laughin' at his bum joke. + +"'Don't do that again,' I says. 'I've a notion to quit right here.' + +"'I'd hate to lose an old employee like you--I'll have to be more +careful,' he says--'n' I'm workin' fur Mr. Brown. + +"About a week after this, I'm bringin' a hackney up to the showroom fur +Brown to look at, when a young chap dressed like a shoffer stops me. + +"'I wish to see Mr. Brown, my man,' he says. 'Can you tell me where he +is?' + +"No shofe can spring this 'my man' stuff on _me_, 'n' get away with it. +But a blind kitten can see this guy's all the gravy. There's somethin' +about him makes you think the best ain't near as good as he wants. I +tells him to come along with me, 'n' when we gets up to the showroom he +sticks a card at Brown. + +"'Yes, indeed--Mr. Van Voast!' says Brown, when he squints at the card. +'You're almost the only member of your family I have been unable to +serve. I believe I have read that you are devoted to the motor game.' + +"'That's an indiscretion I hope to rectify--I want a hunter,' says the +young chap. + +"'Take that horse down and bring up Sally Waters,' says Brown to me. + +"This Sally Waters is a chestnut mare that's kep' in a big stall where +she gets the best light 'n' air in the buildin'. A lot of guys have +looked at her, but the price is so fierce nobody takes her. + +"'Is that the best you have?' says the young chap, when I gets back with +her. + +"'Yes, Mr. Van Voast,' says Brown. 'And she's as good as ever stood on +four legs! She'll carry your weight nicely, too.' + +"'Is she fast?' says the young chap. + +"'After racing at ninety miles an hour, anything in horse-flesh would +seem slow to you, I presume,' says Brown. 'But she is an extremely fast +hunter, and very thorough at a fence.' + +"'Do you know Ferguson's Macbeth?' says the young chap. + +"'I ought to,' says Brown. 'We imported Macbeth and Mr. Ferguson bought +him from me.' + +"The young chap studies a minute. + +"'I might as well tell you that I want a hunter to beat Macbeth for the +Melford Cup,' he says at last. + +"'Oh, oh!' says Brown. 'That's too large an order, Mr. Van Voast--I +can't fill it.' + +"'You don't think this mare can beat Macbeth?' says the young chap. + +"'No, sir, I do not,' says Brown. 'Nor any other hunter I ever saw. +There might be something in England that would be up to it, but I don't +know what it would be--and money wouldn't buy it if I knew.' + +"The young chap won't look at the mare no more, 'n' Brown tells me to put +her up. I hustles her back to the stall, 'n' goes down to the street +door 'n' waits. There's a big gray automobile at the curb, with six guns +stickin' out of her side in front--she looks like a battle-ship. Pretty +soon the young chap comes out 'n' starts to board her 'n' I braces him. + +"'I think I know where you can get the hoss you're lookin' fur,' I says. + +"He stares at me kind-a puzzled fur a minute. + +"'Oh, yes, you are the man who brought the mare up-stairs,' he says. +'What leads you to believe you can find a hunter good enough to beat +Macbeth?' + +"'I ain't said nothin' about a hunter,' I says. 'Would you stand fur a +ringer?' + +"'I think I get your inference,' he says. 'Be a little more specific, +please.' + +"'If I puts you hep to a hoss that ain't no more a hunter than that +automobile,' I says, 'but can run like the buzz-wagon 'n' jump like a +hunter--could you use him in your business?' + +"'What sort of a horse would that be?' he says. + +"'A thoroughbred,' I says. 'A bang-tail.' + +"'Oh--a runner,' he says. 'Do you know anything about the runners?' + +"'A few,' I says. 'I'm on the track nine years.' + +"'What are you doing here?' he says. + +"'Ruled off,' I says. + +"'Hm-m!' he says. 'What for?' + +"'Ringin',' I says. + +"'You seem to run to that sort of thing,' he says. 'What's your name?' +he asks. + +"'Blister Jones,' I says. + +"'Delightful!' he says. 'I'm glad I met you. Who has this remarkable +horse?' + +"'Peewee Simpson,' I says. + +"'Equally delightful! I'd like to meet him, too,' he says. + +"'He's in Loueyville,' I says. + +"'Regrettable,' he says. 'What's the name of his horse?' + +"'Rainbow,' I says. + +"'And I thought this was to be a dull day,' he says. 'Jump in here and +take a ride. I don't know that I care to go rainbow-chasing assisted by +Blisters, and Peewees--but nefarious undertakings have always appealed to +me, and I desire to cultivate your acquaintance.' + +"We goes fur a long ride in the battle-ship. He don't say much--just +asks questions 'n' listens to my guff. At last I opens up on the Rainbow +deal, 'n' I tries all I know to get him goin'--I sure slips him some warm +conversation. + +"'You heard what Brown said of Macbeth!' he says. 'Why are you so +certain this Rainbow can beat him in a steeplechase?' + +"'Why, listen, man!' I says. 'This Rainbow is the best ever. He can +beat any brush-topper now racin' if the handicapper don't overload him. +_He's_ been coppin' where they race your eyeballs off. _He's_ been +makin' good against the real thing. _He's a thoroughbred_! If _he_ +turns in one of these here parlor races fur gents, with a bunch of +hunters, _they won't know which way he went_!' + +"'The runners I have seen are all neck and legs. They don't look like +hunters at all,' he says. + +"'You're thinkin' about these here flat-shouldered sprinters,' I says. +'This Rainbow is a brush-topper. He's got a pair of shoulders on _him_ +'n' he's the jumpin'est thoroughbred ever I saw. Course he's rangier 'n +most huntin'-bred hosses, but with a curb to put some bow in his neck, +he'll pass fur a hunter anywhere!' + +"'There is one sad thing I haven't told you,' he says. 'I must ride the +horse myself.' + +"'What's sad about that?' I says. 'You ain't much over a hundred 'n' +forty, at a guess.' + +"'The trouble is not with my weight--it's my disposition,' he says. 'I +have not ridden for ten years. In fact I never rode much. To tell you +the truth--I'm afraid of a horse.' + +"Say--I'd liked that young chap fine till then! I think he's handin' me +a josh at first. + +"'You're kiddin' me, ain't you?' I says. + +"'No,' he says. 'I'm not kidding you. I've fought my fear of horses +since I was old enough to think. Lately it has become necessary for me +to ride, and I'm going to do it--it it kills me!' + +"We were back to my joint by this time 'n' he looks at me 'n' laughs. + +"'Cheer up!' he says. 'I'll think over what you told me and let you +know. I go over to Philadelphia to-morrow to race in a "buzz-wagon," as +you call it. I don't want you to think me entirely chicken-hearted--and +I'll take you with me, if Brown can spare you.' + +"The next day he shows up in the battle-ship. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'I don't know just how far I'll be willing to go in +the affair, but if you can get Rainbow, I'll buy him.' + +"'Now you've said somethin',' I says. 'Head fur the nearest telegraph +office 'n' I'll wire Peewee.' + +"'They're likely to ask a stiff price fur this hoss,' I says when we gets +to the telegraph office. + +"'Buy him,' he says. + +"'_Do you mean the sky's the limit_?' I says, 'n' he nods. + +"We cross on the ferry after sendin' the wire. He has the battle-ship +under wraps till we hit the open country, 'n' then he lets her step. We +gets to goin' faster 'n' faster. I can't see, 'n' I think my eyebrows +have blowed off. I'm so scared I feel like my stumick has crawled up in +my chest, but I hopes this is the limit, 'n' I grits my teeth to keep +from yelpin'. Just then we hits a long straight road, 'n' what we'd been +doin' before seemed like backin' up. I can't breathe 'n' I can't stand +no more of it. + +"'Holy cats!' I yells. 'Cut it!' + +"'What's the matter?' he says, when he's slowed down. + +"'Holy cats!' I says again. 'Is that what racin' in these things is +like?' + +"'Oh, no,' he says. 'My mechanic took my racing car over yesterday. +This is only a roadster.' + +"'Only a--what?' I says. + +"'Only a roadster--a pleasure car,' he says. + +"'Oh--a pleasure car,' I says. 'It's lucky you told me.' + +"'It's all in getting accustomed to it,' he says. + +"I spends the night at a hotel in Philadelphia with a guy named Ben, +who's the mechanic, 'n' the next mawnin' I sees the race. Say! +Prize-fightin', or war, or any of them little games is like button-button +to this automobile racin'! They kills two guys that day 'n' why they +ain't all killed is by me. The young chap finishes second to some +Eyetalian--but that Dago sure knowed he'd been in a race. + +"''N' he's the guy that's afraid of a hoss!' I says to myself. 'Now, +wouldn't that scald you?' + +"When he leaves me at my joint in New York the young chap writes on a +card 'n' hands it to me. + +"'Here's my name and present address,' he says. 'Let me know when you +hear from our friend Peewee.' + +"Printed on the card is 'Mr. William Dumont Van Voast,' 'n' in pencil, +'Union Club, New York City.' + +"The next day I gets a wire from Peewee in answer to mine. + +"'Sound as a dollar. Eighteen hundred bones buys him. P. W. Simpson,' +it says. + +"I phones Mr. Van, 'n' he says to go to it--so I wires Peewee. + +"'Check on delivery if sound. You know me. Ship with swipe first +express. Blister Jones.' + +"In two days Duckfoot Johnson leads ole Rainbow into the joint, 'n' I +tells Brown it's a hoss fur Mr. Van. I looks him over good 'n' he's O. +K. I gets Mr. Van on the phone 'n' he comes up 'n' writes a check fur +eighteen hundred, payable to Peewee. He gives this to Duckfoot, slips +him twenty-five bucks fur hisself, 'n' hands him the fare back to +Loueyville besides. + +"'What next?' says Mr. Van to me. 'Do we need a burglar's kit, and some +nitroglycerin, or does that class of crime come later?' + +"'We want a vet. right now,' I says. 'This bird has got to lose some +tail feathers.' + +"'Well, you are the chief buccaneer!' says Mr. Van. 'I'll serve as one +of the pirate crew at present. When you have the good ship Rainbow +shortened at the stem and ready to carry the jolly Roger over the high +seas--I should say, fences--let me know. In the meantime,' he says, +slippin' me five twenties, 'here are some pieces-of-eight with which to +buy cutlasses, hand grenades and other things we may need.' + +"I has the vet. dock Rainbow's tail, 'n' as soon as it heals I lets Mr. +Van know. He tells me to bring the hoss to Morrisville, New Jersey, on +the three o'clock train next day. + +"When I unloads from the express car at Morrisville, there's Mr. Van and +a shoffer in the battle-ship. + +"'Just follow along behind, Blister!' says Mr. Van, 'n' drives off slow +down the street. + +"We go through town 'n' out to a big white house, with pillars down the +front. Mr. Van stops the battle-ship at the gates. + +"'Take the car to the Williamson place--Mr. Williamson understands,' he +says to the shofe. + +"I wonders why he stops out here--it's a quarter of a mile to the house. +When we gets to the house there's an old gent, with gray hair, settin' on +the porch. He gets up when he sees us, 'n' limps down the steps with a +cane. + +"'Don't disturb yourself, Governor!' says Mr. Van. 'Anybody here?' + +"'No, I'm alone,' says the old gent. 'Your sister is with the +Dandridges. Your man came this morning, so I was expecting you.' Then +he looks at Rainbow. 'What's that?' he says. + +"'A horse I've bought,' says Mr. Van. 'I'm thinking of going in for +hunting.' + +"'Oh! _She's_ brought you to it, has she?' says the old gent. '_I_ +never could. Why do you bring the horse here?' + +"Mr. Van flushes up. + +"'You know what a duffer I am on a horse, Governor,' he says. 'Well, I +want to try for the Melford Cup. I'd like to build a course on the +place, and school myself under your direction.' + +"'Ah, ha!' says the old gent. 'And then the conquering hero will descend +on Melford, to capture the place in general, and one of its fair +daughters in particular!' + +"'Something like that,' says Mr. Van. + +"'I'll be glad to help you all I can,' says the old gent, 'just so long +as you don't bring one of those stinking things you usually inhabit on +these premises!' + +"'It's a bargain. I've already sent the one I came in to Ralph +Williamson,' says Mr. Van, 'n' we takes Rainbow to the stables. + +"I liked Mr. Van's old man right away, 'n' when he finds out I knows as +much about a hoss as he does, he treats me like a brother. + +"He gets busy quick, 'n' has the men fix up a mile course on the place +with eight fences in it--some of 'em fierce. + +"'Twice around, and you have the Melford course to a dot,' he says. +'Now, young man,' he says to me, 'you get the horse ready and I'll go to +work on the rider.' 'N' believe me, he does it. + +"His bum leg won't let him ride no more, but he puts Mr. Van on a good +steady jumper, 'n' drives besides the course in a cart, tellin' him what +to do. He keeps Mr. Van goin' till I think he'll put him out of +business--'n' say!--but he cusses wicked when things don't go to suit him! + +"'Stick your knees in and keep your backbone limber! Hold his head up +now at this jump--_don't drag at his mouth that way_! Why! damn it +all! . . . you haven't as good hands as a cab-driver,' is the kind of +stuff he keeps yellin' at poor Mr. Van. + +"I'm workin' Rainbow each day, 'n' in three weeks I take him twice around +the course at a good clip. + +"'The hoss'll do in another week,' I says to the old gent. + +"'I'll be ready fur you,' he says, shuttin' his mouth, 'n' that was the +worst week of all for Mr. Van. But he improved wonderful, 'n' one +mawnin' he takes Rainbow over the course at speed. + +"'Not half bad!' says the old gent when they come back. 'He's not up to +his horse yet,' he says to me. 'But between 'em they'll worry that +Melford crowd some, or I miss my guess!' + +"A day or so after that we starts for Melford. The old gent says good-by +to me, 'n' then he sticks out his mitt at Mr. Van. + +"'God bless you, boy!' he says. 'I wish you luck both in the race +and--elsewhere.' + +"Say, this Melford is the horsiest burg ever I saw! They don't do +nothin' but ride 'em 'n' drive 'em 'n' chew the rag about 'em--men 'n' +women the same. Even the kids has toppy little ponies and has hoss shows +fur their stuff. + +"They has what they call a Hunt Club, 'n' everybody hangs out there. +This club gives the cup Mr. Van wants to win. The race fur it is pulled +off once a year, 'n' only club members can enter. + +"The Ferguson guy has won the race twice with the Macbeth hoss 'n' if he +wins it again he keeps the cup. The race is due in two weeks, but there +ain't much talk about it--everybody knows Ferguson'll win sure. + +"This Ferguson has all the kale in the world. He lives in a house so big +it looks like the Waldorf. But from what I hear, the bloods ain't so +awful strong fur him--except his ridin', they all take their hats off to +that. + +"There's a girl named Livingston 's the best rider among the dames, 'n', +believe me, she's a swell doll--she's the niftiest filly I ever gets my +lamps on--she's all to the peaches 'n' cream. + +"It don't take me long to see that Mr. Van is nutty, right, about this +one, but it looks like Ferguson has the bulge on him, 'cause her 'n' +Ferguson is always out in front when they chase the hounds, 'n' they ride +together a lot. We're at Mr. Van's brother's place, 'n' when we first +get there Mr. Van puts me wise. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'you must now assume the disguise of a groom. While +you and I know we are partners in crime, custom requires an outward +change in our heretofore delightful relationship--keep your eyes open and +act accordingly.' + +"I'm dead hep to what he means, 'n' when I'm rigged up like all the rest +of the swipes around there, I touches my hat to him whenever he tells me +anythin'. + +"Everybody joshes Mr. Van about his ridin', but they get over that +sudden--the first time he chases hounds with 'em ole Rainbow 'n' him +stays right at the head of the procession. I'm waitin' at the club to +take the hoss home after the run. When Mr. Van is turnin' him over to me +Miss Livingston comes up. + +"'I'm so _proud_ of you!' she says to him. 'It was splendid . . . I told +you you could do anything you tried!' + +"'Rainbow's the chap who deserves your approval,' says Mr. Van, pointin' +to the hoss. + +"'Indeed, he does--the old precious!' she says, 'n' rubs her face against +Rainbow's nose. Just then Ferguson rides up with a English gink who's a +friend of Mr. Van's, 'n' the dame beats it into the club-house. This +Englishman is a lord or a duke or somethin', 'n' he's visitin' Mr. Van's +brother. Ferguson ain't on Macbeth. He's rode a bay mare that day, 'n' +Rainbow has outrun 'n' out-jumped her. + +"'That's quite a horse you have there, Van,' Ferguson says. 'A bit +leggy--isn't he?' + +"'Perhaps he is,' says Mr. Van. 'But I like something that can get over +the country.' + +"'Going to enter him for the cup?' says Ferguson. + +"'I don't know yet,' says Mr. Van, careless. 'I must see the committee, +and tell them his antecedents--this horse rather outclasses most hunters.' + +"'He doesn't outclass mine, over the cup course, for five thousand!' says +Ferguson, gettin' red. + +"'Done!' says Mr. Van, quiet-like. 'If the committee says I'm eligible +we'll settle it in the cup race. If not, we can run a match.' + +"'Entirely satisfactory,' says Ferguson, 'n' starts to go. But he comes +back, 'n' looks at Mr. Van wicked. 'By the way,' he says, 'money doesn't +interest either of us at present. Suppose we raise the stake this +way--the loser will take a trip abroad, for a year, and in the meantime +we both agree to let matters rest--in a certain quarter.' + +"'Done!' says Mr. Van again. He looks at the other guy colder 'n ice +when he says it. + +"Ferguson nods to him 'n' rides off. + +"The English gink has heard the bet, 'n' when Ferguson beats it he shakes +his head. + +"'Aw, old chap!' he says. 'That's a bit raw--don't you think? I'm sorry +you let him draw you. It's a beastly mess.' + +"'I'm not afraid of him and his horse!' says Mr. Van. But I can see he +ain't feelin' joyous. + +"'Damn him and his hawss--and you too!' says the English gink. 'Aw, it's +the young girl you've dragged into it, Billy!' + +"'It's a confidential matter, and no names were mentioned,' says Mr. Van. + +"'Don't quibble, old chap!' says the English gink. 'The name's nothing. +And as for its being confidential--Ferguson is sure to tell +that--aw--French puppy he's so thick with, and the viscawnt'll +be--aw--tea-tabling it about by five o'clock!' + +"'You're right, of course,' says Mr. Van, slow. 'It was a low thing to +do--a cad's trick. No wonder you English are so rotten superior. You +don't need brains--the right thing's bred into your bones. Your tempers +never show you up. We revert to the gutter at the pinch.' + +"'Oh, I say! That's bally nonsense!' says the English gink. 'I would +have done the same thing.' + +"'Not unless the fifteen hundred years it's taken to make you were wiped +off the slate,' says Mr. Van. 'However, I'll have to see it through now.' + +"The guys that run the club say Rainbow can start in the cup race. Mr. +Van tells me, 'n' the next week I watch him while he sends the hoss over +the course. We're comin' up towards the club-house, after the work-out, +'n' we run into Miss Livingston. She hands Mr. Van the icy stare 'n' he +starts to say something but she breaks in. + +"'I wonder you care to waste any words on a mere racing wager,' she says. + +"'Please let me try to explain . . .' says Mr. Van. + +"'There can be no explanation. What you did was the act of a boor--and a +fool,' says the dame, 'n' walks on by. + +"I think over what she says. 'She's more sore cause she thinks he'll +lose than anythin' else,' I says to myself. 'He ain't in so bad, after +all.' But Mr. Van don't tumble. He's awful glum from then on. + +"There's a fierce mob of swells at the course the day of the race, classy +rigs as far as you can see. The last thing I says to Mr. Van is: + +"'You've got the step of them any place in the route, but you're on a +thoroughbred, 'n' he'll run hisself into the ground if you let him. You +don't know how to rate him right--so stay close to the Macbeth hoss till +you come to the last fence, then turn Rainbow loose, 'n' he'll make his +stretch-run alone.' + +"There's six entries, but the race is between Rainbow and Macbeth from +the get-away. Macbeth is a black hoss, 'n' I never believed till then a +hunter could romp that fast. He was three len'ths ahead of the field at +the first fence, with Rainbow right at his necktie. They gets so far +ahead, nobody sees the other starters from the second fence on. Mr. Van +rides just like I tells him, 'n' lets the black hoss make the pace. +Man!--that hunter did run! Towards the end both hosses begin to tire, +but the clip was easier fur the thoroughbred, 'n' I see Rainbow's got the +most left. + +"Before they come to the last fence Mr. Van turns his hoss loose like I +tells him, 'n' he starts to come away from Macbeth. My! but those swells +did holler! They never thought Rainbow has a chance. At the last fence +he's a len'th in front, 'n' right there it happens Mr. Van don't take +hold of him enough to keep his head up, 'n' he blunders at the fence 'n' +comes down hard on his knees. Mr. Van slides clear to the hoss's ears, +'n' the crowd gives a groan as Macbeth comes over 'n' goes by. + +"'He's gone!' I says to myself, 'n' I can't believe it when he gets back +in the saddle somehow 'n' starts to ride. But the black hoss has a good +six len'ths 'n' now two hundred yards to go. + +"'He'll never reach . . .' I says out loud. 'He'll never reach . . .' + +"Then Rainbow begins his stretch-run with the blood comin' out of his +knees, 'n' while he's a tired hoss, a gamer one never looks through a +bridle. I ain't knockin' that hunter--there was no canary in him, but I +think a game thoroughbred's the gamest hoss that lives! + +"Ole Rainbow is a straight line from his nose to his tail. His ears is +flat 'n' his mouth's half open fur air. Every jump he takes looks thirty +feet long 'n' he's gettin' to the black hoss fast. I'm watchin' the +distance to go 'n' all of a sudden I furgets where I am--. + +"'He wins sure as hell!' I hollers. + +"'Oh, will he?' says a voice. I looks up 'n' there's Miss Livingston +sittin' on her hoss, her fists doubled up 'n' her face whiter'n chalk. + +"About ten len'ths from the finish Rainbow gets to the black 'n' they +look each other in the eye. But them long jumps of the thoroughbred +breaks the hunter's heart, 'n' Rainbow comes away, 'n' wins by a +len'th. . . . + +"After I've cooled Rainbow out, 'n' bandaged his knees at the club +stables, I starts fur home with him. + +"I'm just leavin' the main road, to take the short cut, when Miss +Livingston gallops by, with a groom trailin'. She looks up the +cross-road, sees me 'n' the hoss, 'n' reins in. She says somethin' to +the groom 'n' he goes on. + +"Miss Livingston comes up the crossroad alone, 'n' stops when she gets to +us. + +"'Is that Rainbow?' she says. + +"'Yes'm,' I says. + +"'Help me down, please,' she says. I tries to do it, but I don't make a +good job of it. + +"'You're not a lady's groom?' she says, smilin'. + +"'No'm,' I says. + +"'I should like to pat the winner;' she says. 'May I?' + +"'Go as far as you like,' I says. + +"'I beg pardon?' she says, lookin' at me funny. + +"'Yes'm, you can pat him,' I says. + +"She takes Rainbow by the head, 'n' sort of hugs it, 'n' rubs the tips of +her fingers over his eyelids. Then she whispers to him, but I hears it. + +"'Old precious!' she says. 'I've always loved Rainbows! Do you bring a +fair day, too?' + +"Just then a black auto sneaks around the bend of the main road, 'n' Mr. +Van's drivin' it. He sees us, stops, 'n' comes up the side road to where +we are. She don't hear him till he's right close. Then she backs away +from Rainbow. + +"'I thought you might become tired of your sudden interest in hunting, +Mr. Van Voast,' she says. 'And I should like to own this horse--I was +just looking at him,' she tries to say it haughty, but it don't seem to +scare him none. He looks at her steady. + +"'If I give you a rainbow, will you give me its equivalent?' he says. + +"'A pot of gold? Yes-- How much will you take?' she says, but she don't +look at him no more. + +"'A pot of gold is at the end,' he says. 'This is the beginning, +dear. . . . I want a promise.' + +"'That would be a fair exchange, would it not?' she says, 'n' looks up at +him. I never see eyes look like that before. They puts me in mind of +when the band's playin' as the hosses go to the post fur the Kentucky +Derby. + +"'Blister,' says Mr. Van, 'show the horses the view over the hill; +they'll enjoy it.' + +"I'm on my way in a hurry, but hears her say: + +"'Oh, Billy, not here!' + +"They don't come along fur half an hour. When they does, Mr. Van says to +me: + +"'Lead Rainbow to the Livingston stables, Blister. He has a new owner.' + +"'Does you get a good price fur him?' I says, like I don't tumble to +nothin'. + +"'What a remarkable groom!' says Miss Livingston. + +"'Isn't he?' says Mr. Van. Then he comes 'n' grabs me by the mitt. +'Don't worry about the price, old boy,' he says. 'No horse ever brought +so much before!'" + + + + +SALVATION + +At the invitation of Blister Jones I had come from the city's heat to +witness the morning "work-outs". For two hours horse after horse had +shot by, leaving a golden dust-cloud to hang and drift and slowly +settle. + +It was fairly cool under the big tree by the track fence, and the click +of Blister's stop-watch, with his varied comments on what those clicks +recorded, drifted out of my consciousness much as had the dust-clouds. +Even the thr-rump, thr-rump, thr-rump of flying hoofs--crescendo, +fortissimo, diminuendo--finally became meaningless. + +"Here's one bred to suit you!" rasped a nasal voice, and I sat up, half +awake, to observe a tall man lead a thorough-bred on to the track and +dexterously "throw" a boy into the tiny saddle. + +"Why?" Blister questioned. + +"He's by Salvation," explained the tall man. "Likely-lookin' colt, +ain't he? Think he favors the old hoss any?" + +"'Bout the head he does," Blister answered. "He won't girt as big as +the old hoss did at the same age." + +"Well, if he's half as good as his daddy he's some hoss at that," the +tall man stated, as he started up the track, watch in hand. + +Blister followed the colt with his eyes. + +"Ever hear of Salvation?" he finally asked. + +"Oh, yes," I replied. + +"Well, I brings out Salvation as a three-year-old, 'n' what happens is +quite a bunch of chatter--want to hear it?" + +"You know it," I said, dropping into Blister's vernacular. + +"That's pretty good for you," he said, grinning at my slang. "Well, to +begin with, I'm in Loueyville. It's in the fall, 'n' I'm just back +from Sheepshead. One way 'n' another I've had a good year. I'm down +on two or three live ones when the odds are right, 'n' I've grabbed off +a bundle I ain't ashamed to flash in any kind of company. + +"My string's been shipped South, 'n' I thinks I'll knock around +Kentucky fur a couple of weeks, 'n' see if I can't pick up some hosses +to train. + +"One mawnin' I'm in the Gait House, lookin' fur a hossman that's +stoppin' there, 'n' I see Peewee Simpson settin' in the lobby like he'd +just bought the hotel. + +"'Who left the door open?' I says to him. + +"'It's still open, I see,' says Peewee, lookin' at me. + +"We exchanges a few more remarks, 'n' then Peewee tells me he's come to +Loueyville to buy some yearlin's fur ole man Harris. + +"'There's a dispersal sale to-morrow at the Goodloe farm,' says Peewee. +''N' I hear there's some real nice stuff going under the hammer. +General Goodloe croaked this spring. They cleaned him in a cotton deal +last year 'n' now their goin' to sell the whole works--studs, brood +mares, colts--everything; plows, too--you want a plow? All you need is +a plow 'n' a mule to put you where you belong.' + +"'Where's this farm at?' I says. + +"'Over in Franklin County,' says Peewee. 'I'm goin' over--want to go +'long?' + +"'You're on,' I says. 'I'm not particular who travels with me any +more.' + +"We gets off the train next mawnin' at a little burg called Goodloe, +'n' there's three or four niggers with three or four ratty-lookin' ole +rigs to drive hossmen out to the sale. It's a fierce drive, 'n' the +springs is busted on our rig. I thinks we'll never get there, 'n' I +begins to cuss Peewee fur bringin' me. + +"'What you got to kick at?' says Peewee. 'Ain't you gettin' a free +ride? Cheer up--think of all the nice plows you're goin' to see.' + +"'You take them plows to hell 'n' make furrows in the cinders with +'em,' I says, wonderin' if I can get a train back to Loueyville anyways +soon. + +"But when we gets to the farm I'm glad I come. Man, that was some +farm! Miles of level blue-grass pasture, with white fences cuttin' it +up into squares, barns 'n' paddocks 'n' sheds, all painted white, just +scattered around by the dozen. There's a track to work hosses on, too, +but it's pretty much growed up with weeds. The main house is back in +some big trees. It's brick 'n' has two porches, one on top of the +other, all the way around it. + +"The sale is just startin' when we get there. The auctioneer is in the +judge's stand at the track 'n' the hosses is showed in the stretch. + +"The first thing to sell is brood mares, 'n' they're as good a lot as I +ever looks over. I loses Peewee in the crowd, 'n' climbs on to a shed +roof to see better. + +"Pretty soon here comes a real ole nigger leadin' a mare that looks to +be about as old as the nigger. At that she showed class. Her head's +still fine, 'n' her legs ain't got so much as a pimple on 'em. + +"'Number eleven in your catalogues, gentlemen!' says the auctioneer. +'Mary Goodloe by Victory, first dam Dainty Maid by--what's the use of +tellin' you _her_ breedin', you _all_ know _her_! Gentlemen,' he says, +'how many of you can say you ever owned a Kentucky Derby winner? Well, +here's your chance to own one! This mare won the derby in--er-- + +"'Eighty-three, suh--I saw her do it,' says a man with a white mustache. + +"'Eighty-three, thank you, Colonel. You have a fine memory,' says the +auctioneer. 'I saw her do it, too. Now, gentlemen,' he says, 'what am +I offered for this grand old mare? She's the dam of six winners--three +of 'em stake hosses. Kindly start the bidding.' + +"'Twenty dollahs!' says the ole nigger who has hold of the mare. + +"'Fifty!' says some one else. + +"'Hole on dah,' sings out the ole nigger. 'I'se just 'bliged to tell +you folks I'se pu'chasin' dis hyar mare fo' Miss Sally Goodloe!' + +"The auctioneer looks at the guy who bids fifty. + +"'I withdraw that bid,' says the guy. + +"'Sold to you for twenty dollars, Uncle Jake,' says the auctioneer. +'Bring on number twelve!' + +"'Hyah's yo' twenty dollahs,' says the ole nigger, fishin' out a roll +of raggedy bills and passin' 'em up to the stand. + +"'Thank you, Uncle Jake. Come to the clerk for your bill of sale this +evenin',' says the auctioneer. + +"I watches the sale a while longer, 'n' then mooches into the big barn +where the yearlin's 'n' two-year-olds is waitin' to be sold. They're a +nice lot of colts, but I ain't interested in this young stuff--colts is +too much of a gamble fur me. Only about one in fifty'll make good. +Somebody else can spend their money on 'em at that kind of odds. + +"I goes out of the colt barn 'n' begins to ramble around, lampin' +things in general. I comes to a shed full of plows, 'n' I has to laugh +when I sees 'em. I'm standin' there with a grin on my face when a +nigger comes 'round the shed 'n' sees me lookin' at them plows. + +"'Fine plows, sah, an' vehy cheap,' he says. + +"'Do I look like I needs a plow?' I says to him. + +"'No, sah,' says the nigger, lookin' me over. 'I cyant rightly say you +favohs plowin', but howkum you ain' tendin' de sale?' + +"'I don't see nothin' over there that suits me,' I says. + +"The nigger is sore in a minute. + +"'You is suttanly hahd to please, white man,' he says. 'Ain' no finah +colts in Kaintucky dan dem.' + +"'That may be so, but how about Tennessee?' I says, just to get him +goin'. + +"'Tennessee! Tennessee!' he says. 'What you talkin' 'bout? Why, _we_ +does de fahm wuck wid likelier colts dan _dey_ sends to de races.' + +"'I've seed some nifty babies down there,' I says. + +"'Look-a-hyar, man!' he says, 'you want to see a colt what am a colt?' + +"'How far?' I says. + +"'No ways at all, jus' over yondah,' says the nigger. + +"'Lead me to it,' I say to him, 'n' he takes me over to a long lane +with paddocks down each side of it. All the paddocks is empty but two. +In the first one is the ole mare, Mary Goodloe; 'n' next to her is a +slashin' big chestnut colt. + +"'Cast yo' eyes on dat one!' says the nigger. + +"I don't say nothin' fur five minutes. I just looks at that colt. I +never sees one like him before, nor since. There's some dead leaves +blowin' around the paddock 'n' he's jumpin' on 'em with his front feet +like a setter pup playin'. Two jumps 'n' he's clear across the +paddock! His shoulders 'n' quarters 'n' legs is made to order. His +head 'n' throat-latch is clean as a razor, 'n' he's the proudest thing +that ever stood on four legs. He looks to be comin' three, but he's +muscled like a five-year-old. + +"'How 'bout him, boss?' says the nigger after a while. + +"'Well,' I says, 'they broke the mold when they made that one!' + +"'Dar's de mold,' he says, pointin' to the ole mare in the next +paddock. 'She's his mammy. Dat's Mahey Goodloe, named fo' ole Miss +Goodloe what's dade. Dat mare win de derby. Dis hyar colt's by +impo'ted Calabash.' + +"'When does this colt sell?' I asks him. + +"'He ain' fo' sale,' says the nigger. 'De estate doan own him. De +General done gib him to Miss Sally when de colt's bohn.' + +"'Where's she at now?' I says to the nigger. I had to own that colt if +my roll could reach him--I knowed that 'fore I'd looked at him a minute. + +"'Up to de house, mos' likely,' says the nigger. 'You'd better save +yo' shoe leather, boss. She ain' gwine to sell dat colt no matter what +happens.' + +"I beats it up to the big house, but when I gets there I see nobody's +livin' in it. The windows has boards across 'em. I looks in between +the cracks 'n' sees a whale of a room. Hangin' from the ceilin' is two +things fur lights all covered with glass dingles. They ain't nothin' +else in the room but a tall mirror, made of gold, that goes clear to +the ceilin'. I walks clean around the house, but it's sure empty, so I +oozes back to the barns 'n' collars the sales clerk. + +"'I'm a-lookin' fur Miss Goodloe,' I tells him. 'A nigger says she's +at the house, but I've just been up there 'n' they ain't even furniture +in it.' + +"'No,' says the clerk; 'the furniture was sold to a New York collector +two weeks ago. Miss Goodloe is livin' in the head trainer's house +across the road yonder. She won't have that long, I don't reckon, +though I did hear she's fixin' to buy it when the farm sells, with some +money ole Mrs. Goodloe left her.' + +"I goes over to the little house the clerk points out, 'n' knocks. A +right fat nigger woman, with her sleeves rolled up, comes to the door. + +"'What you want?' she says. + +"'I want to see Miss Goodloe,' I says. + +"'You cyant see her. She ain' seein' nobody,' says the nigger woman, +'n' starts to shut the door. + +"'Wait a minute, aunty," I says. 'I got to see her--it's business, +sure-enough business.' + +"'Doan you aunty me!' says she. 'Now, you take yo' bisniss with you +an' ramble! Bisniss has done sole off eve'y stick an' stone we got! I +doan want to hyar no mo' 'bout bisniss long as I live'--'n' bang goes +the door. + +"I waits a minute 'n' then knocks again--nothin' doin'. I knocks fur +five minutes steady. Pretty soon here she comes, but this time she's +got a big brass-handled poker with her. + +"'Ef I has to clout you ovah de haid wid dis pokah you ain' gwine to +transack no mo' bisniss fo' a tollable long time!' she says. She's mad +all right, 'n' she hollers this at me pretty loud. + +"'Fore I can say anythin' a dame steps out in the hall 'n' looks at me +'n' the nigger woman 'n' the poker. + +"'What's the matter, Liza?' she says to the nigger woman, 'n' her voice +is good to listen at. You don't care what she says, just so she keeps +a-sayin' it. She's got on a white dress with black fixin's on it, 'n' +she just suits her dress, 'cause her hair is dark 'n' her face is +white, 'n' she has great big eyes that put me in mind of--I don't know +what! She ain't very tall, but she makes me feel littler'n her when +she looks at me. She's twenty-four or five, mebby, but I'm a bum +guesser at a dame's age. + +"'Dis pusson boun' he gwine to see you an' I boun' he ain', Miss +Sally,' says the nigger woman. The little dame comes out on the porch. + +"'I am Miss Goodloe,' she says to me. 'What do you wish?' + +"'I want to buy a hoss from you, ma'am,' I says to her. + +"'The horses are being sold across the way at that biggest barn,' she +says. + +"'Yes'm,' I says, 'I've just come from there. I--' + +"'Have you been watching the sale?' she says, breakin' in. + +"'Yes'm--some,' I says. + +"'Liza, you may go to your kitchen now,' she says. 'Can you tell me if +they have sold the mare, Mary Goodloe, yet?' she says to me when the +nigger woman's gone. + +"'Yes'm, she was sold,' I says. + +"She flinches like I'd hit her 'n' I see her chin begin to quiver, but +she bites her lip 'n' I looks off down the road to give her a chance. +Pretty soon she's back fur more. I'm feelin' like a hound. + +"'Do you know who bought her?' she says. + +"'A nigger man they call Uncle Jake buys her,' I says. + +"'Uncle Jake!' she says. 'Are you sure? Was he an old man with poor +eyesight?' + +"'He was old all right,' I says. 'But I don't notice about his eyes. +He give twenty dollars fur her.' + +"'Is that all she brought?' she says. + +"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n' +tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She +stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see +eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark. + +"'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last. + +"'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile. + +"'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find +Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?' + +"'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns. . . I +finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right--he can't hardly +see. He's got rheumatism, too--he's all crippled up with it. When I +gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch. + +"'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do +you know?' + +"'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss +Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she +look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make +some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' nobody want her. Hit +look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole--he doan' know what to do zakly. +Hit's gittin' mighty 'bahassin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr. +Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be +willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer +am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de +'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's +howkum ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' _nobody_ gwine +to take her away fum you, honey!' + +"'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your twenty dollars you got +for that tobacco you raised?' + +"'Ain' I tole you 'bout dat, Miss Sally? Dat mis'able money done skip +out an' leave thoo a hole in ma pocket,' says Uncle Jake, 'n' pulls one +of his pants pockets inside out. Sure enough, there's a big hole in it. + +"'Didn't I give you a safety-pin to pin that money in your inside coat +pocket?' says Miss Goodloe. + +"'Yess'm, dat's right,' he says. 'But I'se countin' de money one day +an' a span ob mules broke loose an' stahts lickety-brindle fo' de bahn, +an' aimin' to ketch de mules, I pokes de money in de pocket wid de +hole. I ain' neber see dat no-'coun' money sence.' + +"Miss Goodloe looks at the ole nigger fur a minute. + +"'Uncle Jake . . . oh, Uncle Jake . . .' she says. '_These_ are the +things I just _can't_ stand!' Her eyes fill up, 'n' while she bites her +lip agin, it ain't no use. Two big tears roll down her cheeks. 'I'll +see you in a moment,' she says to me, 'n' goes inside. + +"'Bad times! Bad times, pow'ful bad times!' says Uncle Jake, 'n' +hobbles away a-mutterin' to hisself. + +"It's begun to get under my skin right. I'm feelin' queer, 'n' I gets +to thinkin' I'd better beat it. 'Don't be a damn fool!' I says to +myself. 'You ain't had nothin' to do with the cussed business 'n' you +can't help it none. If you don't buy this colt somebody else will.' +So I sets on the edge of the porch 'n' waits. It ain't so long till +Miss Goodloe comes out again. I gets up 'n' takes off my hat. + +"'What horse do you wish to buy?' she says. + +"'A big chestnut colt by Calabash, dam Mary Goodloe,' I says. 'They +tell me you own him.' + +"'Oh, I _can't_ sell _him_!' she says, backin' towards the door. 'No +one has ever ridden him but me.' + +"'Is he fast?' I asks her. + +"'Of course,' she says. + +"'Is he mannered?' I asks. + +"'Perfectly,' she says. + +"'He ain't never seen a barrier, I suppose?' I says. + +"'He's broken to the barrier,' she says then. + +"'Who schools him?' I says. 'You tells me nobody's been on him but +you--' + +"'I schooled him at the barrier with the other two-year-olds,' she says. + +"'Whee!' I says. 'You must be able to ride some.' + +"'I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't,' she says. + +"'Are you sure you won't sell him?' I asks her. + +"'Positive,' she says, 'n' I see she means it. + +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Don't you know it's wicked +not to give that colt a chance to show what he can do?' + +"'I know it is,' she says. 'But I have no money for training expenses.' + +"I studies a minute, 'n' all of a sudden it comes to me. 'You were +just achin' to help this little dame a while ago,' I says to myself. +'Here's a chance . . . be a sport!' The colt _might_ make good, 'n' +she could use a thousand or so awful easy. + +"'Miss Goodloe,' I says out loud, 'I might as well tell you I'm in love +with that colt.' She gives me a real sweet smile. + +"'Isn't he a darling?' she says, her face lightin' up. + +"'That isn't the way I'd put it,' I says, 'but I guess we mean the +same. Now, I'm a race-hoss trainer. You read these letters from +people I'm workin' fur, 'n' then I'll tell you what I want to do.' I +fishes out a bunch of letters from my pocket 'n' she sets down on the +steps 'n' begins to read 'em solemn as owls. + +"'Why do they call you Blister?' she asks, lookin' up from a letter. + +"'That's a nickname,' I says. + +"'Oh,' she says, 'n' goes on readin'. When she gets through she hands +the letters to me. 'They seem to have a lot of confidence in you, +Blis--Mr. Jones,' she says. + +"'Stick to Blister,' I says, ''n' I'll always come when I'm called.' + +"'Very well, Blister,' she says. 'Now, why did you wish me to read +those letters?' + +"'I asks you to read them letters, because I got a hunch that colt's a +winner, 'n' I want to take a chance on him,' I says. 'I got a string +of hosses at New Awlins--now, you let me ship that colt down there 'n' +I'll get him ready. I'll charge you seventy-five a month to be paid +out his winnings. If he don't win--no charge. Is it a go?' She don't +say nothin' fur quite a while. 'I sees a dozen hossmen I knows over at +the sale,' I says. 'If you want recommends I can get any of 'em to +come over 'n' speak to you about me.' + +"'No, I feel that you are trustworthy,' she says, 'n' goes to studyin' +some more. 'What I should like to know,' she says after while, 'is +this: Do trainers make a practise of taking horses at the same terms +you have just offered me?' + +"'Sure they do,' I lies, lookin' her in the eye. 'Any trainer'll take +a chance on a promisin' colt.' + +"'Are you certain?' she asks me, earnest. + +"'Yes'm, dead certain,' I says. She don't say nothin' fur maybe five +minutes, then she gets up 'n' looks at me steady. + +"'You may take him,' she says, 'n' walks into the house. + +"I finds Uncle Jake 'n' eases him two bucks. It sure helps his +rheumatism. He gets as spry as a two-year-old. He tells me there's a +train at nine that evenin'. I sends him to the depot to fix it so I +can take the colt to Loueyville in the express car, 'n' he says he'll +get back quick as he can. I hunts up Peewee, but he's goin' to stay +all night, 'cause the yearlin's won't sell till next day. . . . + +"The sun's goin' down when we starts fur the depot, Uncle Jake drivin', +'n' me settin' behind, leadin' the colt. The sunlight's red, 'n' when +it hits that chestnut colt he shines like copper. Say, but he was some +proud peacock! + +"I sends word to Miss Goodloe we're comin', 'n' she's waitin' at the +gate. The colt nickers when he sees her, 'n' she comes 'n' takes the +lead strap from me. Then she holds up her finger at the colt. + +"'Now, Boy-baby!' she says. 'Everything depends on you--you're all +mammy has in the world . . . will you do your best for her sake?' The +colt paws 'n' arches his neck. 'See, he says he will!' she says to me. + +"'What's his name?' I asks her. + +"'Oh, dear, he hasn't any!' she says. 'I've always called him +Boy-baby.' + +"'He can't race under that,' I says. + +"'Between now and the time he starts I'll think of a name for him,' she +says. 'Do you really believe he can win?' + +"'They tell me his dam wins twenty thousand the first year she raced,' +I says. + +"'He'd be our salvation if he did that,' she says. + +"'There's a name,' I says. 'Call him Salvation!' She says over it two +or three times. + +"'That's not a bad racing name, is it?' she asks me. + +"'No'm,' I says. 'That's a good name.' + +"'Very well, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt. 'I christen thee +_Salvation_, with this lump of sugar. That's a fine name! Always bear +it bravely.' She puts her arms around the colt's neck 'n' kisses him +on the nose. Then she hands me the lead strap 'n' steps aside. +'Good-by, and good luck!' she says. + +"When we turns the bend, way down the road, she's still standin' there +watchin' us . . . + +"I sends the colt down with a swipe, 'n' he's been at the track a week +when I gets to New Awlins. The boys have begun to talk 'bout him +already, he's such a grand looker. He don't give me no trouble at all. +He's quiet 'n' kind 'n' trustin'. Nothin' gets him excited, 'n' I +begins to be afraid he'll be a sluggard. It don't take me long to see +he won't do fur the sprints--distance is what he likes. He's got a big +swingin' gallop that sure fools me at first. He never seems to be +tryin' a lick. When he's had two months prep. I has my exercise-boy +let him down fur a full mile. Man! he _just gallops_ in _forty flat_! +Then I know I've got somethin'! + +"His first race I'm as nervous as a dame. I don't bet a dollar on him +fur fear I'll queer it. Anyway, he ain't a good price--you can't keep +him under cover, he's too flashy-lookin'. + +"Well, he comes home alone, just playin' along, the jock lookin' back +at the bunch. + +"'How much has he got left?' I says to the jock after the race. + +"'Him!' says the jock. 'Enough to beat anybody's hoss!' + +"I starts him the next week, 'n' he repeats, but it ain't till his +_third_ race that I know fur sure he's a great hoss, with a racin' +heart. + +"Sweeney has the mount, 'n' he don't get him away good--the colt's +layin' a bad seventh at the quarter. Banjo's out in front, away +off--'n' she's a real good mare. That pin-head Sweeney don't make a +move till the stretch, then he tries to come from seventh all at +once . . . 'n' by God, he does it! That colt comes from nowhere to the +Banjo mare while they're goin' an eighth! The boy on Banjo goes to the +bat, but the colt just gallops on by 'n' breezes in home. + +"'You bum!' I says to Sweeney. 'What kind of a trip do you call that? +Did you get off 'n' shoot a butsy at the stretch bend?' + +"'If I has a match I would,' says Sweeney. 'I kin smoke it easy, 'n' +then _back_ in ahead of them turtles.' + +"I know then the colt's good enough fur the stakes, 'n' I writes Miss +Goodloe to see if I can use the fourteen hundred he's won to make the +first payments. She's game as a pebble, 'n' says to stake him the +limit. So I enters him from New Awlins to Pimlico. + +"I've had all kinds of offers fur the colt, but I always tell 'em +nothin' doin'. One day a lawyer named Jack Dillon, who owns a big +stock farm near Lexington, comes to me 'n' says he wants to buy him. + +"'He ain't fur sale,' I tells him. + +"'Everything's for sale at a price,' he says. 'Now I want that colt +worse than I do five thousand. What do you say?' + +"'I ain't sayin' nothin',' I says. + +"'How does eight thousand look to you?' he says. + +"'Big,' I says. 'But you'll have to see Miss Goodloe at Goodloe, +Kentucky, if you want this colt.' + +"Oh, General Goodloe's daughter,' he says. 'Does she own him? When I +go back next week I'll drop over and see her.' + +"Well, Salvation starts in the Crescent City Derby, 'n' when he comes +under the wire Miss Goodloe's five thousand bucks better off. He wins +another stake, 'n' then I ship him with the rest of my string to +Nashville. The second night we're there, here comes Jack Dillon to the +stall with a paper bag in his hand. + +"'You didn't get the colt?' I says to him. + +"'No,' he says. 'I didn't get anything . . . I lost something.' + +"'What?' I says. + +"'Never mind what,' he says. 'Here, put this bag of sugar where I can +get at it. She told me to feed him two lumps a day.' + +"After that he comes every evenin' 'n' gives the colt sugar, but he's +poor company. He just stands lookin' at the colt. Half the time he +don't hear what I say to him. + +"The colt wins the Nashville Derby, 'n' then I ships him to Loueyville +for the Kentucky. We want him to win _that_ more'n all the rest, but +as luck goes, he ketches cold shippin', 'n' he can't start. + +"Miss Goodloe comes over to Loueyville one mawnin' to see him. She +gets through huggin' him after while, 'n' sets down in a chair by the +stall door. + +"'Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything,' she says. + +"So I tells her every move the colt makes since I has him. + +"'How did he happen to catch cold?' she asks. + +"'Constitution undermined,' I says. + +"'Oh! How dreadful!' she says. 'What caused it?' + +"'Sugar,' I says, never crackin' a smile. + +"She flushes up, 'n' I see she knows what I mean, but she don't ask no +more questions. Before she leaves, Miss Goodloe tells me she'll come +to Cincinnati if the colt's well enough to start in the Latonia Derby. + +"I ships to Cincinnati. About noon derby day I'm watchin' the swipes +workin' on the colt. He's favorite fur the Latonia 'n' there's mebby a +hundred boobs in front of the stall rubberin' at him. + +"'Please let dis lady pass,' I hears some one say, 'n' here comes Liza +helpin' Miss Goodloe through the crowd. When Liza sees me I ducks 'n' +holds up my arm like I'm dodgin' somethin'. She grins till her mouth +looks like a tombstone factory. + +"'I clean fohgot to bring dat pokah wid me,' she says. 'Hyar you is, +Miss Sally.' + +"I don't hardly know Miss Goodloe. There's nothin' like race day to +get a dame goin'. Her eyes are shinin' 'n' her cheeks are pink, 'n' +she don't look more'n sixteen. + +"'Why, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt, 'you've grown to be such a +wonderful person I can't believe it's you!' The colt knows it's race +day 'n' he don't pay much attention to her. 'Oh, Boy-baby!' says Miss +Goodloe, 'I'm afraid you've had your head turned . . . you don't even +notice your own mammy!' + +"'His head ain't turned, it's full of race,' I says to her. He'll come +down to earth after he gets that mile-'n'-a-quarter under his belt.' + +"When the bugle blows, Miss Goodloe asks me to stay in her box with her +while the derby's run. There's twenty thousand people there 'n' I +guess the whole bunch has bet on the colt, from the way it sounds when +the hosses parade past. You can't hear nothin' but '_Salva-a-tion! +Oh, you Salva-a-tion_!' + +"They get a nice break all in a line, but when they come by the stand +the first time, the colt's layin' at the rail a len'th in front, +fightin' fur his head. + +"'_Salva-a-tion_!' goes up from the stands in one big yell. + +"'_There he goes_!' hollers some swipe across the track, 'n' then +everything is quiet. + +"Miss Goodloe's got her fingers stuck into my arm till it hurts. But +that don't bother me. + +"'Isn't it wonderful?' she says, but the pink's gone out of her cheeks. +She's real pale . . . + +"They never get near the colt. . . . He comes home alone with that big +easy, swingin' gallop of his, 'n' goes under the wire still fightin' +fur his head. + +"Then that crowd goes plumb crazy! Men throws their hats away, 'n' +dances around, yellin' till they can't whisper! Miss Goodloe is +shakin' so I has to hold her up. + +"'Isn't he _grand_? How would you like to own him?' a woman in the +next box says to her. + +"'I'd love it,' says Miss Goodloe, 'n' busts out cryin'. 'You'll think +I'm an awful baby!' she says to me. + +"'I don't mind them kind of tears,' I says. + +"'Neither do I,' she says, laughin', 'n' dabbin' at her face with a +dinky little hankerchiff. + +"I wait till they lead the colt out in front of the stand, 'n' put the +floral horseshoe round his neck, then I takes Miss Goodloe down to +shake hands with the jock. + +"'How do you like him?' she says to the jock. + +"'Well, ma'am,' he says, 'I've ridden all the good ones, but he's the +best hoss I ever has under me!' + +"'What's the record fur this race?' I yells across the track to the +timer. He points down at the time hung up. + +"'That's it!' he hollers back. + +"'Didn't he do it easy?' says the jock to me. + +"There's no use to tell you what Salvation done to them Eastern hosses; +everybody knows about that. It got so the ginnies would line up in a +bunch, every time he starts, 'n' holler: '_They're off--there he +goes_!' They does it regular, 'n' pretty soon the crowds get next 'n' +then everybody does it. He begins to stale off at Pimlico, so I ships +him to Miss Goodloe, 'n' writes her to turn him out fur three or four +months. + +"It ain't a year from the time we leaves Miss Goodloe standin' in the +road till then. Salvation wins his every start. He's copped off forty +thousand bucks. I guess that's goin' some! + +"When the season closes I goes through Kentucky on my way South, 'n' I +takes a jump over from Loueyville to see the colt. Miss Goodloe's +bought a hundred acres around her little house, 'n' the colt's turned +out in a nice bluegrass field. We're standin' watchin' him, when she +puts somethin' in my pocket. I fishes it out 'n' it's a check fur five +thousand bucks. + +"'I've been paid what's comin' to me,' I says. 'Nothin' like this +goes.' + +"'Oh, yes, it does!' she says. 'I have investigated since you told me +that _story_. Trainers do _not_ pay expenses on other people's horses. +Now, put that back in your pocket or I will be mortally offended.' + +"'I don't need it,' I says. + +"'Neither do I,' she says. 'I haven't told you--guess what I've been +offered for Salvation?' + +"'I give it up,' I says. + +"'Fifty thousand dollars,' she says. 'What do you think of that?' + +"'Are you goin' to sell?' I asks her. + +"'Certainly not,' she says. + +"'He'll earn twice that in the stud,' I says. 'Who makes you the +offer--Mr. Dillon?' + +"'No, a New York man,' she says. 'I guess Mr. Dillon has lost interest +in him.' + +"I guess he hasn't,' I says. 'I seen him at Pimlico, 'n' he was worse +'n ever.' + +"'Did--did he still feed him sugar?' she says, but she don't look at me +while she's gettin' it out. + +"'You bet he did,' I says. + +"'Shall you see him again?' she asks me. + +"'Yes'm, I'll see him at New Awlins,' I says. + +"'You may tell him,' she says, her face gettin' pink, 'that as far as +my horse is concerned I haven't changed my mind.' + +"On the way back to the house I gets to thinkin'. + +"'I'm goin' round to the kitchen 'n' say hello to Aunt Liza,' I says to +Miss Goodloe. + +"Liza's glad to see me this time--mighty glad. + +"'Hyah's a nice hot fried cake fo' you, honey,' she says. + +"'This ain't no fried cake,' I says. 'This is a doughnut.' + +"'You ain' tryin' to tell _me_ what a fried cake is, is you?' she says. + +"'Aunt Liza,' I says to her while I'm eatin' the doughnut, 'I sees Mr. +Jack Dillon after he's been here, 'n' he acts like he'd had a bad time. +Did you take a poker to him, too?' + +"'No, sah,' she says. 'Miss Sally tended to his case.' + +"'It's too bad she don't like him,' I says. + +"'Who say she doan' like him?' says Liza. 'He come a sto'min' round +hyah like he gwine to pull de whole place up by de roots an' transport +hit ovah Lexington way. Fust he's boun' fo' to take dat hoss what's +done win all dem good dollahs. Den his min' flit f'om dat to Miss +Sally, an' he's aimin' to cyar her off like she was a 'lasses bar'l or +a yahd ob calico. Who is dem Dillons, anyway? De Goodloes owned big +lan' right hyar in Franklin County when de Dillons ain' nothin' but +Yankee trash back in Maine or some other outlan'ish place! Co'se we +sends him 'bout his bisniss--him an' his money! Ef he comes roun' +hyar, now we's rich again, an' sings small fo' a while. Miss Sally +mighty likely to listen to what he got to say--she so kindly dat a-way.' + +"At the depot in Goodloe that night I writes a wire to Jack Dillon. +'If you still want Salvation better come to Goodloe,' is what the wire +says. I signs it 'n' sends it 'n' takes the train fur New Awlins. + +"The colt ruptures a tendon not long after that, so he never races no +more, 'n' I ain't never been to Goodloe since." + +Blister yawned, lay back on the grass and pulled his hat over his face. + +"Is Salvation alive now?' I asked. + +"Sure he's alive!" The words come muffled from beneath the hat. "He's +at the head of Judge Dillon's stock farm over near Lexington." + +"I'm surprised Miss Goodloe sold him," I said. + +"She don't . . . sell him," Blister muttered drowsily. "Mrs. +Dillon . . . still . . . owns him." + + + + +A TIP IN TIME + +Blister was silent as we left the theater. I had chosen the play +because I had fancied it would particularly appeal to him. The name +part--a characterization of a race-horse tout--had been acceptably done +by a competent young actor. The author had hewn as close to realism as +his too clever lines would permit. There had been a wealth of +Blister's own vernacular used on the stage during the evening, and I +had rather enjoyed it all. But Blister, it was now evident, had been +disappointed. + +"You didn't like it?" I said tentatively, as I steered him toward the +blazing word "Rathskeller," a block down the street. + +"Oh, I've seed worse shows," was the unenthusiastic reply. "I can get +an earful of that kind of chatter dead easy without pryin' myself loose +from any kale," he added. + +I saw where the trouble lay. The terse expressive jargon of the race +track, its dry humor just beneath its hard surface, might delight the +unsophisticated, but not Blister. To him it lacked in novelty. + +"I ain't been in one of these here rats ketchers fur quite a while," +said Blister, as we descended the steps beneath the flambuoyant sign. +"Do you go to shows much?" he asked, when two steins were between us on +the flemish oak board. + +"Not a great deal," I replied. "I did dramatics--wrote up shows--for +two years and that rather destroyed my enjoyment of the theater." + +"I got you," said Blister. "Seein' so much of it spoils you fur it. +That's me, too. I won't cross the street to see a show when I'm on the +stage." + +Had he suddenly announced himself king of the Cannibal Islands I would +have looked and felt about as then. I gazed at him with dropping jaw. + +"No, I ain't bugs!" he grinned, as he saw my expression. "I'm on the +stage quite a while. Ain't I never told you?" + +"You certainly have not," I said emphatically. + +"I goes on the stage just because I starts to cuss a dog I owns one +day," said Blister. "It's the year they pull off one of these here +panic things, and believe me the kale just fades from view! It you +borrow a rub-rag, three ginnies come along to bring it back when you're +through. If you happens to mention you ain't got your makin's with +you, the nearest guy to you'll call the police. They wouldn't have a +hoss trained that could run a mile in nothin'. + +"A dog out on grass don't cost but two bucks a month. It seems like +the men I'm workin' fur all remembers this at once. When I'm through +followin' shippin' instructions I'm down to one mutt, 'n' I owns him +myself. He's some hoss--I don't think. He's got a splint big as a +turkey egg that keeps him ouchy in front half the time, 'n' his heart +ain't in the right place. I've filled his old hide so full of hop you +could knock his eyes off with a club, tryin' to make him cop, but he +won't come through--third is the best he'll do. + +"One day about noon I'm standin' lookin' in the stall door, watchin' +him mince over his oats. They ain't nothin' good about this dog--not +even his appetite. I ain't had a real feed myself fur three days, 'n' +when I sees this ole counterfeit mussin' over his grub I opens up on +him. + +"'Why, you last year's bird's nest!' I says to him. 'What th' hell +right have you got to be fussy with your eats? They ain't a oat in +that box but what out-classes you--they've all growed faster'n you can +run! The only thing worse'n you is a ticket on you to win. If I pulls +your shoes off 'n' has my choice between you 'n' them--I takes the +shoes. If I wouldn't be pinched fur it I gives you to the first nut +they lets out of the bughouse--you sour-bellied-mallet-headed-yellow +pup! You cross between a canary 'n' a mud-turtle!' + +"That gets me sort-a warmed up, 'n' then I begins to really tell this +dog what the sad sea waves is sayin'. When I can't think of nothin' +more to call him, I stops. + +"'Outside of that he's all right, ain't he?' says some one behind me. + +"'No,' I says, 'he has other faults besides.' + +"I turns round 'n' there's a fat guy with a cigar in his face. He's +been standin' there listenin'. He's got a chunk of ice stuck in his +chest that you have to look at through smoked glasses. He's got +another one just as big on his south hook. Take him all 'n' all he +looks like the real persimmon. + +"'Do you own him?' says the fat guy. + +"'You've had no call to insult a stranger,' I says. 'But it's on me--I +owns him.' + +"'I'm sorry you've got such a bad opinion of him,' he says. 'I was +thinkin' of buyin' him.' + +"I looks around fur this guy's keeper--they ain't nobody in sight. + +"'This ain't such a bad hoss,' I says. 'Them remarks you hears don't +mean nothin'. They're my regular pet names fur him.' + +"'I'd like to be around once when you talk to a bad one,' says the guy. +'Now look a-here,' he says. 'I'll buy this horse, but get over all +thoughts of makin' a sucker out of me. What do you want for him? If +you try to stick me up--I'm gone. The woods is full of this kind. +Let's hear from you!' + +"'Fur a hundred I throws in a halter,' I says. + +"'You've sold one,' says the guy, 'n' peels off five yellow men from a +big roll. + +"When I've got the kale safe in my clothes, I gets curious. + +"'What do you want with this hoss?' I says. + +"'He's to run on rollers in a racing scene,' he says. + +"'Well,' I says, 'some skates has rollers on 'em, maybe they'll help +this one. God knows he ain't any good with just legs!' + +"'He's plenty good enough for his act,' says the guy. 'And say, I want +another one like him, and a man to go on the road with 'em. Can you +put me wise?' + +"'How much would be crowded towards the party you want, Saturday +nights?' I says. + +"'Twenty dollars and expenses,' says he. + +"'Make it thirty,' I says. 'Travelin's hard on them that loves their +home.' + +"'We'll split it,' he says. 'Twenty-five's the word.' + +"'My time's yours,' I says. + +"'How about the other horse?' says the fat guy. + +"'You'll own him in eight minutes,' I says. 'Stay here with Edwin +Booth till I get back.' + +"I hustles down the line 'n' finds Peewee Simpson washin' out +bandages--that's what he'd come to. + +"'You still got that sorrel hound?' I says to him. + +"'Nope,' says Peewee. 'He's got me. I'm takin' in washin' to support +him.' + +"'Brace yourself fur a shock,' I says. 'I'll give you real money fur +him.' + +"Peewee looks at me fur a minute like you done a while ago. + +"'Don't wake me up!' he says. 'I must--' then he stops 'n' takes +another slant at me. 'Say!' he says, 'I'll bet you've got next! I +ain't told you yet--who put you hep?' + +"'Hep to what?' I says. + +"'Why, this hoss works a mile in forty yesterday,' says Peewee. 'I'm +goin' to cop with him next week.' + +"'Your work's coarse,' I says. 'The only way that dog goes a mile in +forty is in the baggage coach ahead. I'm in a hurry! Here's a hundred +fur the pup. Don't break a leg gettin' him out of the stall.' + +"I don't stop to answer Peewee's questions, but leads the hoss back to +the fat guy. + +"'Here's Salvini,' I says. 'He cost you a hundred.' + +"'S. R. O. for you,' says he, 'n' slips me the hundred. 'Now, take him +and Edwin Booth to the livery-stable round the corner from the Alhambra +Theater. Come to the Gilsey House at six o'clock and ask for me. My +name is Banks.' + +"'There's class to that name,' I says. 'It sure sounds good to me.' + +"'Keep on your toes like you've done so far and it'll be as good as it +sounds,' says he. + +"That evenin' Banks tells me the dogs he's bought is fur a show called +_A Blue Grass Belle_. A dame is to ride one of 'em in the show, 'n' +I'm to ride the other. + +"'I've arranged to have the apparatus set up back of the +livery-stable,' says Banks, 'so you can rehearse the horses for their +act. When they know their parts I'll bring Pixley around and you can +work the act together. She was a rube before she hit the big town and +she says she can ride.' + +"Say, this dingus fur the hosses to run on is there like a duck. The +guy that thinks it up has a grand bean! You leads a hoss on to it 'n' +when it's ready you gives him the word. He starts to walk off, nothin' +doin', he ain't goin' nowhere. You fans him with the bat. 'I'll be on +my way,' he says. But he ain't got a chance--the faster he romps the +faster the dingus rolls out from under him. He can run a forty shot, +'n' he don't go no further 'n I can throw a piano! + +"After I've worked both dogs on the dingus fur a week or so, I tells +Banks they know the game--'n' believe me, they did! Why, them ole +hounds got so they begins to prance when they see the machine. They'd +lay down 'n' ramble till they dropped if I lets 'em. They liked it +fine! + +"'I'll send Pixley around to-morrow,' says Banks. 'I want you to teach +her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse.' + +"Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little +head out the back door of the livery-stable. + +"'Hello, kid,' she says to me. + +"'Hello, girlie,' I says back. + +"'_Miss Pixley_, if you _please_,' she says. + +"'All right,' I says. ''N' while we're at it Mr. Jones'll suit me.' + +"'Fade away,' she says, 'n' I see she's got a couple of dimples. 'Mr. +Jones don't suit you.' + +"'Make it Blister, then,' I says. + +"'You're on,' she says. 'And you can stick to girlie.' + +"Say, she was a great little dame; she makes a hit with me the first +dash out of the box. When it comes to ridin' she's game as a wasp. +She has on a long coat, 'n' I don't see what's underneath. + +"'Banks tells me you ride like a jock in the show,' I says. 'You can't +cut the mustard with that rig on.' + +"'Sure not, Simple Simon!' she says. 'Do you think this grows on me?' +She sheds the coat, 'n' I see she's got on leggins 'n' a pair of puffy +pants. + +"I throws her on to Salvini 'n' he begins to prance around, me holdin' +him by the head. + +"'Whoa, you big bum!' I says to him. + +"'Quit knocking my horse,' she says. 'Let go of him and see if I care.' + +"I turns him loose 'n' she lets him jump a few times 'n' then rides him +on to the machine. I see she knows her business so I stands beside her +'n' makes her sit him like she ought. It don't take her no time to get +wise. Pretty soon she's clear over with a hand on each side of his +withers, 'n' him goin' like a stake hoss. + +"'That's the dope!' I hollers. I has to yell 'cause the ole hound is +makin' a fierce racket on the machine. + +"'I feel like a monkey on a stick,' she hollers back, but she don't +look like one. Her hair's shook loose, her eyes is shinin', 'n' them +dimples of her's is the life of the party. + +"'So long, professor,' she says to me when she's goin'. 'Much obliged +for the lesson. Our act will be a scream.' + +"Not long after that they moves the dingus over to the theater, 'n' +Banks tells me to bring the hosses over at three o'clock the next day. +I'm there to the minute, but nobody shows up 'n' I stands out in front +with the dogs fur what seems like a week. All of a sudden a tall pale +guy, who ain't got no coat on, comes bustin' out of the entrance. + +"'Where in hell and damnation have you been with these skates?' he +says. His hair is stickin' up on end 'n' he's got a wild look in his +eye. + +"'Batty as a barn,' I says to myself, 'n' gets behind Edwin Booth. + +"'Speak up!' says the pale guy. 'Before I do murder!' I looks up 'n' +down the street--not a cop in sight. + +"'I'm a gone fawn skin,' I says to myself, but I thinks I'll try to +soothe him till help comes. + +"'That's all right, pal, that's all right,' I says to him. 'These +pretty hosses are in a show. Did you ever see a show? I seen a show +once that--' + +"'My poor boy,' he says, breakin' in. 'I didn't know! What got into +Banks?' he says, sort-a to hisself. 'Try and remember,' he says to me, +'weren't you told to bring these pretty horses here at three o'clock?' + +"That puts me jerry, 'n' I sure am sore when I thinks how he gets my +goat. + +"'Why, you big stiff!' I says. 'Ain't I been standin' here with these +plugs fur a week? If you wants 'em, why don't you come 'n' tell me to +lead 'em in? Do you think I'm a mind-reader?' + +"His voice gets wild again. + +"'Lead 'em in where?' he says. 'Through the lobby? Do you want to buy +'em tickets at the box-office? Will you have orchestra chairs for 'em +or will front-row balcony do? Now beat it up that alley to the stage +entrance, you doddering idiot!' he says. 'You've held up this +rehearsal two hours!' + +"Say, I've made some fierce breaks in my time, but that was the limit. +It goes to show what a sucker anybody is at a new game. But at that, a +child would have knowed those dogs didn't go in the front way. + +"When I gets on to the stage with the hosses, there's guys 'n' dames +standin' around all over it. The chicken comes 'n' shakes my mitt. + +"'Say, kid,' she says, 'you'll hit the street for this sure. Where +_have_ you been?' + +"Before I can tell her, here comes the pale guy down the aisle. + +"'Everybody off stage!' he hollers. The bunch beats it to the sides. +'Now,' says the pale guy. 'We'll start the third act. Pixley,' he +says to the chicken, 'I'll read your lines. You explain to Daniel +Webster his cue, lines and business for your scene. Charlie, hold +those horses.' + +"The chicken starts to wise me up like he tells her. I'm a jock in the +play, 'n' I has one line to say. 'He'll win, sir, never fear,' is the +line. What another guy says to me before I says it she calls a cue, +'n' I learns that, too. I don't remember much what goes on that first +day. I gets through my stunt O. K., except what I has to say--somehow, +I can't get it off my chest louder'n a he-mouse can squeak. + +"'If any one told me a horse would win, in that tone of voice,' says +the pale guy to me, 'I'd go bet against him!' He keeps me sayin' it +over 'n' over till pretty soon you can hear me nearly three feet away. +'That'll have to do for today,' says the pale guy. 'Everybody here at +two o'clock to-morrow. I'll have the lobby swept out for your +entrance, Daniel Webster,' he says to me. + +"I tries the back door fur a change next day and they rehearse all +afternoon. I'm here to say that pale guy is some dispenser of remarks. +At plain 'n' fancy cussin' he's a bear. + +"He's got the whole bunch buffaloed, except the chicken. She hands it +back to him when it comes too strong. + +"'Pixley,' he says to her once, 'your directions call for a quick exit. +The audience will be able to stand it if you get off stage inside of +ten minutes. Try and remember you are not stalling a Johnny with a +fond farewell in this scene.' + +"'That's a real cute crack,' says the chicken. 'But you've got your +dates mixed. I can shoo a Johnny, even if he's in the profession,' she +says, lookin' at him, 'quicker than a bum stage manager can fire a +little chorus girl.' + +"The pale guy's name is De Mott. He looks at her hard fur a minute, +then he swallers the dose. + +"'Proceed with the act,' he says. + +"The show goes great the first night, far as I can see, but De Mott +ain't satisfied. + +"'It's dragging! It's dragging!' he keeps sayin' to everybody. + +"A minute before I has to walk out on the stage, leadin' Edwin Booth, I +can't think of nothin' but what I has to say. I gets one look at all +them blurry faces, 'n' I goes into a trance. + +"'More than life depends on this race!' I hears a voice say, about a +mile off. That's my cue, but all I can remember is to tell him it's a +cinch, 'n' say it loud. + +"'The dog cops sure as hell!' I hollers. + +"After the act De Mott rushes over tearin' at his collar like it's +chokin' him. + +"'Don't you even know the difference between a horse and a dog?' he +yells at me. + +"'If you sees this hound cough it up in the stretch often as I have, +you calls him a dog yourself,' I says. + +"I don't furget again after that, 'n' things go along smooth as silk +from then on. + +"The show runs along fur a week, but it don't make good. + +"'The waving corn for this outfit!' says the chicken to me, Saturday +night. 'The citizens of Peoria, Illinois, will have a chance to lamp +my art before long.' + +"She's got it doped right. We hit the road in jig-time. Banks makes a +speech before we leaves. + +"'Ladies and gentlemen,' he says, 'I thank you for your good work. Mr. +De Mott will represent me on the road. I hope you will be a happy +family, and I wish you success.' + +"Outside of the chicken, I'm not stuck on the bunch. They're as cheap +a gang as I'm ever up against. This De Mott guy is a cheese right, but +he sure thinks he's the original bell-wether. He's strong fur the +chicken, 'n' this makes the others sore at her. They don't have much +to do with me neither, 'n' she don't fall fur De Mott, so her 'n' me +sees each other a lot. + +"She's a bug over hosses 'n' the track. She wants me to tell her all +about trainin' a hoss 'n' startin' a hoss 'n' fifty other things +besides. + +"'I always lose,' she says. 'But then, I'm a rummy. Can you tell +which horse is going to win, Blister?' + +"'Sometimes,' I says. + +"'When you go back to the track will you put me wise so I can win?' she +says. + +"'You bet I will, girlie!' I says. 'Any time I cut loose a good thing +you gets the info right from the feed-box.' + +"De Mott keeps noticin' us stickin' together. He's talkin' to her once +when I'm passin' by. + +"'He's on the square,' she says pretty loud. 'And that's more than you +can say about a lot of people I know.' + +"'That big ham was trying to knock you,' she says to me afterwards. + +"We makes a bunch of towns. Nothin' very big--burgs like Erie 'n' +Grand Rapids 'n' Dayton. Finally we hits St. Louis fur a two weeks' +stand. This suits me. I'm sure tired of shippin' the dogs every few +days. + +"One night the chicken stops me as I'm takin' the pups to their kennel. + +"'Come back for me, Blister,' she says, 'when you get your horses put +up. There's a Johnny in this town that's pestering the life out of me. +He wants me to go to 'Frisco with him.' + +"When I gets back to the theater I sees a green buzz-wagon at the stage +door with a guy 'n' a shofe in it. + +"The chicken has hold of my arm comin' out of the door, but she lets go +of it 'n' then steps up straight to the buzz-wagon. + +"'I can't keep my engagement with you this evening,' she says. 'My +brother's in town and I'm going to be with him.' + +"'Bring your brother along,' says the guy, 'n' I know by that he's got +it bad. + +"'I can't very well,' she says. 'We have some family matters to talk +over. I'll see you some other evening.' + +"The very next night a bunch of scenery tumbles over. The race is +goin' on, 'n' Edwin Booth is layin' down to it right. A piece of +scenery either falls under his feet or else jims the machine, I never +knows which, anyhow, all of a sudden the hoss gets real footin'. +Bingo! We're on our way like we're shot out of a gun. We go through +all the scenery on that side 'n' Edwin Booth does a flop when he hits +the brick wall at the end of the stage. The ole hound ain't even +scratched. I ain't hurt neither. + +"The curtain rings down 'n' De Mott comes a-lopin' to where I'm gettin' +a painted grand-stand off of Edwin Booth's front legs. + +"'In heaven's name what were you trying to do?' he says. + +"'I was just practisin' one of them quick exits you're always talkin' +about,' I says. + +"'All right,' he says. 'Keep on practising till you come to that door! +Follow on down the street till you reach the river and then jump in!' + +"'I guess I'm fired--is that it?' I says. + +"'You're a good guesser,' says De Mott. + +"The chicken has come over by this time. + +"'Are you hurt, Blister?' she says. + +"'Not a bit, girlie,' I says, 'n' starts to go change my clothes. + +"'Wait till I give you an order on the box-office for your money,' says +De Mott. + +"'Well, get busy,' I says to him. 'I've stood it around where you are +about as long as is healthy.' + +"'What's that?' says the chicken to De Mott. 'You don't mean to tell +me you fired him!' + +"'I don't mean to tell you _anything_ that's none of your business,' +says De Mott. 'Go dress for the next act!' + +"'Not on your life!' she says. 'You can't fire him; it wasn't _his_ +fault! I'll write Banks a _lot_ I know about you!' + +"De Mott pulls out his watch. + +"'I'll give you just _one minute_ to start for your dressing-room,' he +says to her. + +"The chicken knocks the watch out of his hand. + +"'_That_ for your old turnip and you, too!' she says. + +"'You're fired!' yells De Mott. + +"'Oh, no, I ain't!' says the chicken. 'That's my way of breaking a +contract and a watch at the same time. You needn't write an order for +me,' she says. 'I'm overdrawn a week now.' + +"When we're leavin', after we gets our street clothes on, De Mott stops +us. + +"'There's a way you can both get back,' he says to the chicken. + +"'When I sell out,' says she, 'it'll be to a real man for real money, +not to a cheap ham-fat for a forty-dollar job.' + +"The chicken won't stay at the hotel where the bunch is that night, so +we both moves over to another. When we pays our bill I have seven +bucks left 'n' she has six. + +"'We'll decide what to do in the morning, Blister,' she says. 'I've +got a headache, so I think I'll hit the hay.' + +"She goes to her room 'n' I sets 'n' studies how this is goin' to wind +up, till three o'clock. + +"We has breakfast together the next mawnin' about noon. + +"'Well,' says the chicken, 'I've been up against it before, but this is +tougher than usual. Everybody I know is broke or badly bent.' + +"'Same here,' I says. + +"'You poor kid!' she says. 'What'll you do?' + +"'Don't worry none about me,' I says. 'I can get to New Awlins +somehow--they're racin' down there. But what about you?' + +"'If I could get back East,' she says, 'I know a floor-walker at Macy's +who'll stake me to a job till I can get placed.' + +"'You stick around here,' I says, when we're through eatin'. 'I'll go +out 'n' give the burg a lookin' over.' + +"'I've got that Johnny's phone number,' she says. 'I wonder if he'd +stand for a touch without getting too fresh?' + +"I goes to the desk 'n' wigwags the clerk. He's a fair-haired boy with +a alabaster dome. + +"'Are they runnin' poolrooms in the village?' I says. + +"'Yes, sir,' he says. 'Pool and billiard room just across the street.' + +"'Much obliged,' I says. I see the tomtit ain't got a man's size chirp +in him, so I goes outside 'n' hunts up a bull. + +"'Can you wise me up to a pony bazaar in this neck of the woods?' I +says to him. + +"'Go chase yourself,' he says. 'What do you think I am--a capper?' + +"'Be a sport,' I says. 'Come through with the info--I ain't a live +one. I'm a chalker, 'n' I'm flat. I'm lookin' fur a job.' + +"He sizes me up fur quite a while. + +"'Well,' he says at last, 'I guess if they trim you they'll earn it. +Go down two blocks, then half a block to your right and take a squint +at the saloon with the buffalo head over the bar.' + +"I finds the saloon easy enough. + +"'Make it a tall one,' I says to the barkeep. + +"While I'm lappin' up the drink, a guy walks in 'n' goes through a door +at the other end of the booze parlor. + +"'Where does that door go to?' I says to the barkeep. + +"'It's nothin' but an exit,' he says. + +"'That's right in my line,' I says. 'I'll take a chance at it.' + +"When I opens the door I hears a telegraph machine goin'. + +"'Just like mother used to make,' I says out loud, 'n' follows down a +dark hall to the poolroom. + +"I watches the New Awlins entries chalked up 'n' I sees a hoss called +Tea Kettle in the third race. Now this Tea Kettle ain't a bad pup. +He's owned by a couple of wise Ikes who never let him win till the odds +are right. Eddie Murphy has this hoss 'n' Duckfoot Johnson's swipin' +him.' + +"'I wish I knew what they're doin' with that Tea Kettle to-day,' I says +to myself, when I've looked 'em all over. + +"I've been settin' there fur quite a while when a nigger comes in. I +don't pay no attention to him at first, but I happen to see him fish a +telegram out of his pocket 'n' look at it. + +"'That ole nigger's got some dope,' I says to myself. 'I'll amble over +'n' try to kid it out of him.' + +"I mosies over to where he's settin'. He puts the wire in his pocket +when he sees me comin'. I sets down beside him 'n' goes to readin' the +paper. Pretty soon I folds up the paper 'n' looks at the board. + +"'That Tea Kettle might come through,' I says to the ole nigger. + +"'Dat ain' likely,' he says. 'He ain' won fo' a coon's aige.' + +"'I talks to his swipe not very long ago,' I says, ''n' he tells me +he's good.' + +"The ole nigger looks at me hard. + +"'Whar does you hol' dis convahsation at?' he says. + +"'Sheepshead,' I says. + +"'Does you reccomember de name ob de swipe?' says the ole nigger. + +"'Sure!' I says, 'I've knowed _him_ all my life! His name is Duckfoot +Johnson.' + +"'Yes, suh!' he says. 'Yes, suh--an' what mought yo' name be?' + +"'Blister Jones,' I says. + +"'Why, man!' he says, 'I've heard ob you frequen'ly. Ma name am +Johnson. Duckfoot is ma boy; hyars a tellegam fum him!' + +"He pulls out the wire. 'T. K. in the third,' it says. I looks up at +the board--Tea Kettle's twelve-to-one. + +"I goes out of that poolroom on the jump 'n' runs all the way to the +hotel. The chicken ain't in her room. I falls down-stairs 'n' looks +all around--nothin' doin'. All of a sudden I sees her in the telephone +booth. + +"'Gimme that six bones quick!' I says when I've got the glass door +open. She puts her hand over the phone. + +"'Here, it's in my bag,' she says. + +"I grabs the bag 'n' beats it. I gets the change out on my way back to +the poolroom. The third race is still open, 'n' I gets ten bucks +straight 'n' two to show on Tea Kettle. Then I goes over where ole man +Johnson's settin'. + +"'Whar does you go so quick like?' he says. + +"'I'm after some coin,' I says, tryin' to ketch my breath. 'I've took +a shot at the Tea Kettle hoss.' + +"'I has bet on him,' he says, 'to ma fullest reso'ses.' + +"'How much you got on?' I says. + +"'Foh dollahs,' says ole man Johnson. + +"Just then the telegraph begins to click. + +"'They're off at New Orle-e-e-ns!' sings the operator. 'King Ja-a-ames +first! Eldorado-o-o second! Anvil-l-l third!' + +"The telegraph keeps a stutterin' 'n' a stutterin'. + +"'Eldorado-o-o at the quarter a length! Anvil-l-l second a length! +King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. + +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He looks at me. + +"'Eldorado-o-o at the half by three lengths! Anvil-l-l second by two +lengths! King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. + +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He don't look at me. He looks up at the +ceilin' 'n' his lips is goin' like he's prayin'. Me? I'm wipin' the +sweat off my face. + +"'Eldorado-o-o in the stretch a half a length!' sings the operator. +'Anvil-l-l second a nose! Te-e-a Kettle third and coming fast!' + +"If I gets a shock from that telegraph wire I don't jump any higher. + +"'Howdy, howdy! _He's boilin now_,' yells ole man Johnson loud enough +to bust your ear. + +"Then that cussed telegraph stops right off. + +"'Wire trouble at New Orleans,' says the operator. + +"I sure hopes I never spends no more half-hours like I does then +waitin' fur the New Awlins message. I thinks every minute ole man +Johnson's goin' to croak if it don't come soon. In about ten years the +telegraph begins to work again. + +"'The result at New Orle-e-ens!' sings the operator. 'Te-e-ea Kettle +wins by five lengths! Eldo--' + +"But ole man Johnson lets out such a whoop I don't hear who finishes +second 'n' third. + +"I hustles up to the chicken's room when I'm back to the hotel. The +transom's open when I gets to the door 'n' I hears a guy talkin'. + +"'Don't misunderstand me,' he's savin'. 'You know perfectly the +money's nothing to me, but why should I cut my own throat? If you'll +go West instead of East, everything I have is yours!' + +"'I don't misunderstand you,' says the chicken's voice. 'I have you +sized up to a dot. I've met hundreds like _you_!' + +"I knocks on the door. + +"'Come,' says the chicken, 'n' I walks in. She's standin' with the +table between her 'n' a swell-lookin' guy. + +"'Mr. Chandler,' she says. 'Let me introduce you to my brother.' + +"'How do you do?' says the swell guy. 'You have a charming sister.' + +"'She's a great kid,' I says. + +"'You don't look much alike,' says the swell guy. + +"'She's not my full sister,' I says. 'Our mothers weren't the same.' + +"The chicken coughs a couple of times. + +"'That explains it,' says the swell guy. + +"'Now,' I says to him, 'I hate to tie a can to one of sis's friend, but +she's goin' East at six o'clock, 'n' she's got to pack her duds.' + +"'Oh, Blister, _am_ I?' says the chicken. + +"'Yep, I hears from auntie,' I says, pullin' out the roll 'n' lay in' +it on the table. + +"The chicken gives a shriek, 'n' starts to hug me right in front of the +swell guy. + +"'I seem to be dee tro,' says he, 'n' backs out the door. + +"'Where did you get the money?' says the chicken, countin' the roll. +'Why! There's _over a hundred here_!' + +"I takes fifty bucks fur myself, 'n' hands her the rest. + +"'I cops it at a poolroom,' I says. 'A ten-to-one shot comes through +fur me. Now get busy. I'll send fur your trunk in ten minutes.' + +"The chicken won't hear of ridin' in a street-car, so we takes a cab +like a couple of Trust maggots. + +"'I'll buy your ticket 'n' check your trunk fur you,' I says, when we +get to the station. 'Where do you want to go? New York?' + +"'Anywhere you say,' she says. . . + +"I'm standin' there lookin' at her, lettin' this sink into my bean, 'n' +she begins to get red. + +"'Don't stand there gawking at me!' she says, stampin' her foot. 'Say +something!' + +"'How about this St. Louis guy?' I says. 'With all his--' + +"'Oh, he was only a Johnny,' she says. + +"'How about De Mott?' I says. + +"'Ugh!' she says, makin' a face. + +"I don't say nothin' after that till I has it all thought out. The +start looks awful good, but I begins to weaken when I thinks of the +finish. + +"'You act just suffocated with pleasure,' says the chicken. But I +don't pay no attention. + +"'You'll be lucky if you gets a job swipin' fur your eats when you hit +New Awlins,' I says to myself. 'Wouldn't you look immense with a doll +on your staff?' + +"'Now, listen,' I says to her, 'how long is this here panic goin' to +last?' + +"'You can search me,' she says. + +"'Well, how long is this hundred goin' to last?' I says. + +"'Not long,' she says. + +"'That's the answer,' I says. 'Now, you hop a deep sea goin' rattler +fur New York while the hoppin' 's good.' + +"'But, Blister,' she says, 'at New Orleans you could win lots of +money--think how much you've made already--and I could go to the races +every day!' + +"'Furget it,' I says. 'You think you're a wise girl. Why, you ain't +nothin' but a child! A break like I has to-day don't come but seldom. +If I cops the coin easy, like you figgers, why am I chambermaid to two +dogs in a bum show at twenty-five per? Now slip me the price of a +ticket to New York,' I says, 'or I goes 'n' buys it out of my own roll, +'n' then I ain't got enough left to get to New Awlins.' + +"She don't say nothin' more, but hands me the dough. I buys her ticket +'n' checks her trunk fur her. She keeps real quiet till her rattler's +ready. I kisses her good-by when they calls the train fur New York, +'n' still she don't say nothin'. + +"'What's on your mind, girlie?' I says. + +"'Nothing much,' she says. 'Only I'm letter perfect in the +turnin'-down act, but when it's the other way--I ain't up in my +lines.'" . . . + +Blister waved to a waiter and I saw there was to be no more. + +"Did you ever see her again?" I inquired. + +"Now you're askin' questions," said Blister. + + + + +TRÈS JOLIE + +The hot inky odors of a newspaper plant took me by the throat during my +progress in the whiny elevator to the third floor. + +Before attacking the day's editorial I tried to decide whether it was +the nerve flicking clash of the linotypes, the pecking chatter of the +typewriters, or the jarring rumble of the big cylinder presses that was +taking the life out of my work. I was impartial in this, but gave it +up. + +And then a letter was dropped on the desk before me, and I recognized +in the penciled address upon the envelope the unformed hand of Blister +Jones. + + +"Dear Friend," the letter began, and somehow the ache behind my eyes +died out as I read. 'I guess you are thinking me dead by this time on +account of not hearing from me sooner in answer to yours. Well, this +is to show you I am alive and kicking. I guess you have read how good +the mare is doing. She is a good mare, as good as her dam. I had some +mean luck with her at Nashville by her going lame for me, so she could +not start in the big stake, but she is O. K. now. I note what you said +about being sick. That is tough. Why don't you come to Louisville and +see the mare run in the derby. If you would only bet, I can give you a +steer that would put you right and pay all your expenses. Well, this +is all for the present. + +"Resp. + +"Blister Jones. + +"P. S. Now, be sure to come as I want you to see the mare. She is sure +a good mare." + + +I laid the letter down with a sigh. The mare referred to was the now +mighty Très Jolie favorite for the Kentucky Derby. I had seen her once +when a two-year-old, and I remembered Blister's pride as he told me she +was to be placed in his hands by Judge Dillon. + +Yes, I would be glad to see "the mare," and I longed for the free +sunlit world of which she was a part, as for a tonic. But this was, of +course, impossible. So long as hard undiscerning materialism demanded +editorials--editorials I must furnish. + +"Damn such a pen!" I said aloud, at its first scratch. + +"Quite right!" boomed a deep voice. A big gentle hand fell on my +shoulder and spun me away from the desk. "See here," the voice went on +gruffly, "you're back too soon. We can't afford to take chances with +_you_. Get out of this. The cashier'll fix you up. Don't let me see +you around here again till--we have better pens," and he was gone +before thanks were possible. + +"I'm going to Churchill Downs to cover the derby for a Sunday special!" +I sang to the sporting editor as I passed his door. + +"The _Review of Reviews_ might use it!" followed me down the hall, and +I chuckled as I headed for the cashier's desk. + + +"Well, well, well!" was Blister's greeting. "Look who's here! I seen +your ole specs shinin' in the sun clear down the line!" + +I sniffed luxuriously. + +"It smells just the same," I said. "Horses, leather and liniment! +Where's Très Jolie?" + +"In the second stall," said Blister, pointing. "Wait a minute--I'll +have a swipe lead her out. Chick!"--this to a boy dozing on a rickety +stool--"if your time ain't too much took up holdin' down that chair, +this gentleman 'ud like to take a pike at the derby entry." + +Like a polished red-bronze sword leaping from a black velvet scabbard +the mare came out of her stall into the sunlight, the boy clinging +wildly to the strap. She snorted, tossed her glorious head, and shot +her hind feet straight for the sky. + +"You, Jane, be a lady now!" yelled the boy, trying to stroke the +arching neck. + +"Why does he call her Jane?" I asked. + +"Stable name," Blister explained. "Don't get too close--she's right on +edge!" And after a pause, his eyes shining: "Can you beat her?" + +I shook my head, speechless. + +"Neither can _they_!" Blister's hand swept the two-mile circle of +stalls that held somewhere within their big curve--the enemy. + +The boy at the mare's head laughed joyously. + +"They ain't got a chance!" he gloated. + +"All right, Chick," said Blister. "Put her up! Hold on!" he corrected +suddenly. "Here's the boss!" And I became aware of a throbbing motor +behind me. So likewise did Très Jolie. + +"Whoa, Jane! Whoa, darling; it's mammy!" came in liquid tones from the +motor. + +The rearing thoroughbred descended to earth with slim inquiring ears +thrown forward, and I remembered that Blister had described Mrs. +Dillon's voice as "good to listen at." + +"Look, Virginia, she knows me!" the velvet voice exclaimed. + +Another voice, rather heavy for a woman, but with a fascinating drawl +in it, answered: + +"Perhaps she fancies you have a milk bottle with you. Isn't this the +one you and Uncle Jake raised on a bottle?" + +"Yass'm, yass, Miss Vahginia, dat's her! Dat's ma Honey-bird!" came in +excited tones from an ancient negro, who alighted stiffly from the +motor and peered in our direction. As they approached, he held Mrs. +Dillon by the sleeve, and I realized that for Uncle Jake the sun would +never shine again. + +Judge Dillon, a big-boned silent man, I had met. And after the shower +of questions poured upon Blister had abated, and the mare had been +gentled, petted and given a lump of sugar with a final hug, he +presented me to his wife. + +"My cousin, Miss Goodloe," said Mrs. Dillon, and I sensed a mass of +tawny hair under the motor veil and looked into a pair of blue eyes set +wide apart beneath a broad white brow. It was no time for details. + +It developed that Miss Goodloe was from Tennessee, that she was +visiting the Dillons at Thistle Ridge near Lexington, and that she +liked a small book of verses of which I had been guilty. It further +developed that Mrs. Dillon had talked me over with an aunt of mine in +Cincinnati, that we were mutually devoted to Blister, and that he had +described me to her as "the most educated guy allowed loose." This +last I learned as Judge Dillon and Blister discussed the derby some +distance from us. + +"I feel awed and diffident in the presence of such learning," said Miss +Goodloe almost sleepily. "Why did I neglect my opportunities at Dobbs +Ferry!" + +"I would give a good deal to observe you when you felt diffident, +Virginia," said Mrs. Dillon, with a laugh like a silver bell. "Uncle +Jake!" she called, "we are going now." + +"I have heard of Uncle Jake," I said, as the old man felt his way +toward us. + +"Yes?" said Mrs. Dillon. "He insisted upon coming to _see_ the derby." +She dwelt ever so lightly upon the verb, and Uncle Jake caught it. + +"No, Miss Sally," he explained, "dat ain' 'zackly what I mean. Hit's +like dis--I just am boun' foh to hyah all de folks shout glory when ma +Honey-bird comes home!" + +"What if she ain't in front, Uncle Jake?" said Blister, helping the old +man into the motor. + +"Don't you trifle with me, boy!" replied Uncle Jake severely. + + +Derby day dawned as fair as turquoise sky and radiant sun could make +it. I had slept badly. Until late the night before I had absorbed a +haze of cigar smoke and the talk in the hotel lobby. Despite Blister's +confidence I had become panicky as I listened. There had been so much +assurance about several grave, soft-spoken horsemen who had felt that +at the weight the favorite could not win. + +"Nevah foh a moment, suh," one elderly well-preserved Kentuckian had +said, "will I deny the Dillon mare the right to be the public's choice. +But she has nevah met such a field of hosses as this, suh--and she +lacks the bone to carry top weight against them." + +There had been many nods of approval at this statement, and I had gone +to the Dillon party for consolation. But when I reached their +apartments I had found the judge more silent than ever, and Mrs. Dillon +as nervous as myself. Only Miss Goodloe appeared as usual. Her drawl +was soothingly indolent. She seemed entirely oblivious of any +tenseness in the atmosphere, and I caught myself wondering what was +behind those lazy-lidded blue eyes. + +Back in the lobby once more I had found it worse than ever--so many +were against the favorite. I had about decided that our hopes were +doomed, when a call boy summoned me to the desk with the statement, +"Gentleman to see you, sir." + +There I had found Blister and I fairly hugged him as he explained that +he had dropped in on the way to his "joint," as he called his hotel. + +"Listenin' to the knockers?" he asked, reading me at once. "Furget +it--them ole mint juleps is dead 'n' buried. You'll go dippy if you +fall fur that stuff." + +"But the weight!" I gasped. + +"Say, they've got you goin' right, ain't they?" Blister exclaimed. +"Now listen! _She can carry the grand-stand 'n' come home on the bit_! +Get that fixed in your nut, 'n' then hit the hay." + +"Thanks, I believe I shall," I said, and I had followed his advice, +though it was long until sleep came to me. + +But now as the blue-gray housetops of Louisville sparkled with tiny +points of light, and the window-panes swam with pink-gold flame, I +looked out over the still sleeping city and laughed aloud at my fears +of the night before. + +"A perfect day," I thought. "The favorite will surely win, and Blister +and Uncle Jake and Mrs. Dillon will be made perfectly happy. A +beautiful day, and a fitting one in which to fix the name of Très Jolie +among the equine stars!" + +"We read some of your poetry last night after you had gone," said Mrs. +Dillon, as we waited for the motor to take us to Churchill Downs. "I +liked it, and I don't care for verse as a rule, except Omar. I dote on +_The Rubaiyat_; don't you?" + +"Yes, indeed," I replied. "I can't quite swallow his philosophy, but +he puts it all so charmingly. Some of his pictures are most alluring." + +"Do learnéd persons ever long for the _wilderness_, and the _bough_, +and--the other things?" Miss Goodloe asked innocently. + +"Quite frequently," I assured her. + +She affected a sigh of relief. + +"That's such a help," she said. "It makes them seem more like the rest +of us." + +A huge motor-car wheeled from the line at the curb and glided past us. +A man in the tonneau lifted his hat high above his head as he saw Judge +Dillon. + +"Oh, you Très Jolie!" he called with a smile. "The best luck in the +world to you, Judge!" It was an excessively rich New Yorker, who owned +one of the horses about to run in the derby. + +"Oh, you Rob Roy!" called back Judge Dillon, also raising his hat. +"The same to you, Henry!" And suddenly there was a tug at my nerves, +for I realized that this was the _salut de combat_. + +But Uncle Jake, his faith in his "Honey-bird" unshaken as the time drew +near, rode in placid contentment on the front seat as we sped to the +track. We passed, or were passed by, many motor-cars from which came +joyous good wishes as the Dillons were recognized. Each packed and +groaning street-car held some one who knew our party, and "Oh, you Très +Jolie!" they howled as we swept by. The old negro's ears drank all +this in. It was as wine to his spirit. He hummed a soft minor +accompaniment to the purring motor, and leaning forward I caught these +words: + + "Curry a mule an' curry a hoss, + Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!" + + +"Luck to her, Judge!" called the man at the gates, as he waved us +through. "Ah've bet my clothes on her!" + +"You'll need a barrel to get home in!" yelled a voice from a buggy. +"The Rob Roy hoss'll beat her and make her like it!" + +"You-all are from the East, Ah reckon," we heard the gateman reply. +"Ah've just got twenty left that says we raise 'em gamer in Kentucky +than up your way!" + +At the stables we found Blister. + +"How is she?" asked Judge Dillon. + +"She's ready," was the answer. "It's all over, but hangin' the posies +on her." + +"Lemme feel dis mayah," said Uncle Jake, and Mrs. Dillon guided him +into the stall. + +"I'd like to give her one little nip before she goes to the post, +Judge," I heard Blister say in a low voice. + +"Not a drop," came the quick reply. "If she can't win on her own +courage, she'll have to lose." + +"Judge Dillon won't stand fur hop--he won't even let you slip a slug of +booze into a hoss," Blister had once told me. I had not altogether +understood this at the time, but now I looked at the big quiet man with +his splendid sportsmanship, and loved him for it. + +A roar came from the grand-stand across the center-field. + +"They're off in the first race," said Blister. "Put the saddle on her, +boys;" and when this was accomplished: "Bring her out--it's time to +warm up." + +I had witnessed Très Jolie come forth once before and I drew well back, +but it was Mrs. Dillon who led the thoroughbred from the stall. She +was breathing wonderful words. Her voice was like the cooing of a +dove. Très Jolie appeared to listen. + +"She don't handle like that fur us, does she, Chick?" said Blister. + +"Nope," said the boy addressed. "I guess she's hypnotized." + +"How do you do it?" I inquired of Mrs. Dillon as she led the mare to +the track, the rest of us following. + +"She's my precious lamb, and I'm her own mammy," was the lucid +explanation. + +"Now you know," said Blister to me. "Pete!" he called to a boy, +approaching, "I want this mare galloped a slow mile. Breeze her the +last eighth. Don't take hold of her any harder'n you have to. Try 'n' +_talk_ her back." + +"I got you," said the boy, as Blister threw him up. Mrs. Dillon let go +of the bridle. Très Jolie stood straight on her hind legs, made three +tremendous bounds, and was gone. We could see the boy fighting to get +her under control, as she sped like a bullet down the track. + +"I guess Pete ain't usin' the right langwige," said the boy called +Chick, with a wide grin. + +"Maybe she ain't listenin' good," added another boy. + +"Cut out the joshin' 'n' get her blankets ready," said Blister with a +frown. + +"I think we'd better start," suggested Judge Dillon. + +"Aren't you terribly excited?" I asked Miss Goodloe curiously, as she +walked cool and composed by my side. My own heart was pounding. + +"Of course," she drawled. + +"This girl is made of stone," I thought. + +The band was playing _Dixie_ as we climbed the steps of the +grand-stand, and the thousands cheered until it was repeated. Hands +were thrust at the Dillons from every side, and until we found our box, +continued shouts of, "Oh, you Très Jolie!" rose above the crash of the +band. + +I had witnessed many races in the past and been a part of many racing +crowds but never one like this. These people were Kentuckians. The +thoroughbred was part of their lives and their traditions. Through him +many made their bread. Over the fairest of all their fair acres he +ran, and save for their wives and children they loved him best of all. + +Once each year for many years they had come from all parts of the +smiling bluegrass country to watch this struggle between the +satin-coated lords of speed that determined which was king. This +journey was like a pilgrimage, and worship was in their shining eyes, +as tier on tier I scanned their eager faces. + +And now three things happened. A bugle called, and called again. The +crowd grew deathly still. And Mrs. Dillon, in a voice that reminded me +of a frightened child, asked: + +"Where is Blister?" + +"He'll be here," said Judge Dillon, patting her hand. And even as a +megaphone bellowed: "_We are now ready for the thirty-ninth renewal of +the Kentucky Derby_!" Blister squeezed through the crowd to the door of +the box. + +He was a rock upon which we immediately leaned. + +"Everything all right?" I asked. + +"Fine as silk," he said cheerfully, dropping into a seat. "You'll see +a race hoss run to-day! Here they come! She's in front!" And held to +a proud sedateness by their tiny riders, the contenders in the derby +filed through the paddock-gate. + +At the head of these leashed falcons was a haughty, burnished, +slender-legged beauty--the proudest of them all. Her neck was curving +to the bit and she seemed to acknowledge with a gracious bow the roar +of acclamation that greeted her. She bore the number 1 upon her satin +side, and dropping my eyes to my program I read: + +1. Très Jolie--b. m. by Hamilton--dam Alberta. John C. Dillon, +Lexington, Kentucky. (Manders--blue and gold.) + +"What sort of jockey is Manders?" I asked Blister. + +"Good heady boy," was the reply. + +"Virginia, oh, Virginia, isn't she a lamb?" gasped Mrs. Dillon. + +"She's a stuck-up miss," said Miss Goodloe in an even tone, and I +almost hated her. + +Number 2 I failed to see as they paraded past. + +Number 3 was a gorgeous black, with eyes of fire, powerful in neck and +shoulders, and with a long driving hip. He was handsome as the devil +and awe-inspiring. Applause from the stands likewise greeted him, +though it was feeble to the howl that had met the favorite. + +"There's the one we've got to beat," Blister stated. + +"Good horse," said Judge Dillon quietly. + +3. Rob Roy--bl. s. by Tempus Fugit--dam Marigold. Henry L. Whitley, +New York City. (Dawson--green and white.) + +I read. I followed him with my eyes and wished him somewhere else. He +looked so overpowering--he and the millions behind him. . . . + +At last, a quarter of a mile away, they halted in a gorgeous shifting +group. And the taut elastic webbing of the barrier that was to hold +them from their flight a little longer, was stretched before them. + +They surged against it like a parti-colored wave, and then receding, +surged again, but always the narrow webbing held them back. I found +the blue and gold. It was almost without motion--it did not shift and +whirl with the rest. + +"Ain't she the grand actor?" said Blister with delight. "The best +mannered thing at the barrier ever I saw." + +Then for a moment I lost the colors that had held my gaze. They were +blotted out and crowded back by other colors. In that instant the wave +conquered. It grew larger and larger. It was coming like the wind. +But where was the blue and gold? + +I was answered by a heaven-cleaving shout that changed in the same +breath to a despairing groan. It was as though a giant had been +stricken deep while roaring forth his battle-cry. The thousands had +seen what I had missed--their hopes in an instant were gone. In the +stillness that followed, a harsh whisper reached me. + +"_She's left_! _She's left_!" Then an uncanny laugh. The rock had +broken. + +The wave was greeted by silence. A red bay thundered in the lead. +Then came a demon, hard held, with open mouth, and number 3 shone from +his raven side. Followed a flying squadron all packed together, their +hoofs rolling like drums. And then came aching lengths, and my eyes +filled with tears and something gripped my heart and squeezed it as +Très Jolie, skimming like an eager swallow, fled past undaunted by that +hopeless gap. + +"Whar my baby at?" asked Uncle Jake. He had heard the groan and the +silence, and fear was in his voice. + +"Oh--Uncle Jake--" began Mrs. Dillon. "They--" her voice broke. + +"Dey ain' left her at de post? Doan' tell me dat, Miss Sally!" + +Mrs. Dillon nodded as though to eyes that saw. Uncle Jake seemed to +feel it. + +"How fah back? How fah back?" he demanded. + +"She ain't got a chance, Uncle Jake!" said Blister, and dropped his +head on his arm lying along the railing. + +"How fah back?" insisted the old negro. + +Blister raised his head and gazed. + +"Twenty len'ths," he said, and dropped it again. + +"Doan' you fret, Miss Sally," Uncle Jake encouraged. "She'll beat 'em +yet!" + +"Not this time, old man," said Judge Dillon very gently. He was +tearing his program carefully into little pieces, with big shaking +hands. . . . + +The horses were around the first turn, and the battle up the back +stretch had begun. The red bay was still leading. + +"Mandarin in front!" said some one behind us. "Rob Roy second and +running easy--the rest nowhere!" + +"Jes' you wait!" called Uncle Jake. + +"You ole fool nigger!" came Blister's muffled voice. + +Even at that distance I could have told which one was last. The same +effortless floating stride I had noticed long ago was hers as Très +Jolie, foot by foot, ate up the gap. At the far turn she caught the +stragglers and one by one she cut them down. + +"Oh, gallant spirit!" I thought. "If they had given you but half a +chance!" + +I lost her among a melee of horses, on the turn, as the leader swung +into the stretch. It was the same red bay, but now the boy on the +black horse moved his hands forward a little and his mount came easily +to the leader's side. There was a short struggle between them and the +bay fell back. + +"Mandarin's done!" cried the voice behind us. "Rob Roy on the bit!" + +"I might have known it!" I thought bitterly. "He looked it all along." + +Then a gentle buzzing sprang up like a breeze. It was a whisper that +grew to a muttering, and then became a rumble and at last one delirious +roar. The giant had recovered, and his mighty cry brought me to my +feet, my heart in my throat--for "_Très Jolie_" he roared . . . and +coming! . . . coming!! . . . coming!!! . . . I saw the blue and gold! + +A maniac rose among us and flung his fists above his head. He called +upon his gods--and then that magic name--"_Très Jolie_," he shrieked: +"_Oh, Baby Doll_!" It was Blister--and I marveled. + +[Illustration: "Très Jolie!" he shrieked.] + +I had seen him stand and lose his all without a sign of feeling. But +now he raved and cursed and prayed and plead with his "Girlie!"--his +"Baby Doll!", and with the last atom of her strength his sweetheart +answered the call. + +She reached, heaven alone knows how, the flank of the flying black, and +inch by inch she crept along that flank until they struggled head to +head. + +"Oh, you black dog!" howled Blister, wild triumph in his voice. +"You've got to beat a race hoss _now_!" + +As though he heard, the black horse flattened to his work. Almost to +the end he held her there, eye meeting eye. The task was just beyond +him. Even as they shot under the wire, he faltered. But it was very +close, and the shrieking hysterical grand-stand grew still and waited. + +I glanced at Blister. He was leaning forward, almost crouching, his +face ashen, his eyes on the number board. + +Then slowly the numbers swung into view, and "_1, 3, 7,_" I read. + +There was a roar like the falling of ten thousand forest trees. These +words flashed through my mind. "We'll know about _her_ when she goes +the route, carryin' weight against class." . . . . Yes, we knew about +_her_--now! + +I saw Mrs. Dillon's lips move at Uncle Jake's ear. He raised his +sightless eyes to the sky, his head nodding. It was as though he +visioned paradise and found it good indeed. + +I saw Blister's face turn from gray to red, from red to purple. The +tenseness went out of his body, and suddenly he was gone, fighting his +way through the crowd toward the steps. + +I saw Judge Dillon's big arm gather in his trembling wife, and he held +her close while the heavens rocked. + +These things I saw through a blur, and then I felt Miss Goodloe sway at +my side. She clutched at the railing, missed it and sank slowly into +her seat. I but glimpsed a white face in which the eyes had changed +from blue to violet, when it was covered by two slender gloved hands. + +"Are you ill?" I called, as I bent above her. + +She shook her head. + +"It was too much," I barely heard. + +I stood bewildered, and then my stupid mind cast out a soulless image +that it held and fixed the true one there. + +"I rarely make this kind of a fool of myself," she said at last. + +"That I can quite believe," I replied, smiling down at her. She +returned the smile with one that held a fine good comradeship, and we +seemed to have known each other long. . . . + + +A crowd had packed themselves before the stall. As we reached it +Blister appeared in the doorway. + +"Get back! Get back!" he ordered, and pointing to the panting mare: +"Don't you think she's earned a right to breath?" + +The crowd fell away, except one rather shabby little old man. + +"No one living," said he, "appreciates what she has done moh than +myself, suh, but I desiah to lay ma hand on a real race mayah once moh +befoh I die!" + +Blister's face softened. + +"Come on in, Mr. Sanford," he invited. "Why _you_ win the derby once, +didn't you?" + +"Thank you, suh. Yes, suh, many yeahs ago," said the little old man, +and removing his battered hat he entered the stall, his white head bare. + +Mrs. Dillon's face as she, too, entered the stall was tear-wet and +alight with a great tenderness. + +A boy dodged his way to where we stood. His face and the front of his +blue and gold jacket were encrusted with dirt. + +"You shoe-maker!" was Blister's scornful greeting. + +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't my fault, Judge," the boy piped, sniffling. +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't! That sour-headed bay stud of Henderson's +swung his ugly butt under the mare's nose, 'n' just as I'm takin' back +so the dog won't kick a leg off her, that mutt of a starter lets 'em +go!" + +"All right, sonny," said the judge. "You rode a nice race when you did +get away." + +"Much obliged, sir. I just wanted to tell you," said the boy, and he +disappeared in the crowd as Judge Dillon joined those in the stall. + +I stayed outside watching the group about Très Jolie, and never had my +heart gone out to people more. Deeply I wished to keep them in my +life. . . I wondered if we would ever meet again. But pshaw!--I was +nothing to them. Well, I would go back to Cincinnati when they left in +the morning. . . . + +"Can't we have you for a week at Thistle Ridge?" Mrs. Dillon stood +looking up at me. + +"Why, that's very kind--" I stammered. + +"The north pasture is a _wilderness_ this year, the _loaf of bread, the +jug of wine_ and the _bough_ are waiting. You can, of course, furnish +your own _verses_." + +"The picture is almost perfect," I said, and glanced at Miss Goodloe. + +"Virginia, dear--" prompted Mrs. Dillon. + +"As a _thou_--I always strive to please," drawled that blue-eyed young +person. Oh, that I had been warned by her words! + +Our purring flight to Louisville, when the day was done, became a +triumph that mocked the dead Caesars. Of this the old negro on the +front seat missed little. He was singing, softly singing. And leaning +forward I listened. + + "Curry a mule an' curry a hoss, + Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!" + +sang Uncle Jake. + + + + +OLE MAN SANFORD + +"Do you happen to notice a old duck that comes to the stalls at +Loueyville just after the derby?" asked Blister. + +"Was his name Sanford, and did he wish to pat the mare?" I asked in +turn. + +"That's him," said Blister. "Ole man Sanford. It ain't likely you +ever heard of him, but everybody on the track knows him, if they ever +hit the Loueyville meetin'. They never charge him nothin' to get into +the gates. He ain't a owner no more, but way back there before I'm +alive he wins the Kentucky Derby with Sweet Alice, 'n' from what I +hears she was a grand mare. Ole man Sanford breeds Sweet Alice +hisself. In them days he's got a big place not far from Loueyville. +They tell me his folks get the land original from the govament, when +it's nothin' but timber. I hears once, but it don't hardly sound +reasonable, that they hands over a half a million acres to the first +ole man Sanford, who was a grandaddy of this ole man Sanford. If +that's so, Uncle Sam was more of a sport in them days than since. + +"I don't know how they pry it all loose from him, but one mawnin' ole +man Sanford wakes up clean as a whistle. They've copped the whole +works--he ain't got nothin'. So he goes to keepin' books fur a whisky +house in Loueyville, 'n' he holds the job down steady fur twenty years. +The only time he quits pen-pushin' is when they race at Churchill +Downs. From the first minute the meetin' opens till get-away day comes +he's bright eyes at the rat hole. He don't add up no figgers fur +nobody then. He just putters around the track. He's doped out as +sort-a harmless by the bunch. + +"After the Très Jolie mare wins the derby fur me, ole man Sanford makes +my stalls his hang-out. I ain't kickin', all he wants to do is to look +at the mare 'n' chew the rag about her. That satisfies him completely. + +"'Of all the hosses, suh, who have been a glory to our state,' he says, +'but one otheh had as game a heart as this superb creature. I refer to +Sweet Alice, suh--a race mayah of such quality that the world marveled. +Not in a boastful manner, suh, but with propah humility, let me say +that I had the honor to breed and raise Sweet Alice, and that she bore +my colors when she won the tenth renewal of our great classic.' + +"He tells this to everybody that comes past the stalls, 'n' it ain't +long till he begins to bring people around to look the mare over. From +that he gets to watchin' how the swipes take care of her. Pretty soon +he begins to call 'em if things ain't done to suit him. + +"'Boy,' he'll say, 'that bandage is tighter than I like to see it. +Always allow the tendon a little play--do not impaieh the suhculation.' + +"The boys eat this stuff up--it tickles 'em. They treat him respectful +'n' do what he tells 'em. + +"'Everything O. K. to-day, sir?' they'll say. + +"Ole man Sanford don't tumble they're kiddin' him. + +"'Ah have nothing to complain of,' he says. + +"It ain't long till he's overseein' my whole string of hosses, just +like he owns 'em. Man, he sure does enjoy hisself! He won't trade +places with August Belmont. + +"I'm gettin' Trampfast ready fur a nice little killin'. He's finished +away back in two starts, but he runs both races without a pill. This +hoss is a dope. He's been on it fur two seasons. He won't beat +nothin' without his hop. But when he gets just the right mixture under +his hide he figgers he can beat any kind of a hoss, 'n' he's about +right at that. He furgets all about his weak heart with the nutty +stuff in him. He thinks he's a ragin' lion. He can't wait to go out +there 'n' eat up them kittens that's goin' to start against him. + +"One mawnin' my boy Pete takes the Trampfast hoss out fur a trial. + +"'If he'll go six furlongs in about fourteen,' I says to Pete, 'he's +right. If he tries to loaf on you, shake him up; but if he's doin' his +work nice, let him suit hisself 'n' keep the bat off him. I want to +see what he'll do on his own.' + +"'I think he'll perform to-day,' says Pete. 'He's felt real good to me +fur the last week.' + +"Ole man Sanford's standin' there listenin'. When the work-out starts +he ketches the time with a big gold stop-clock that he fishes out of +his shiny ole vest. The clock's old, too--it winds with a key--but at +that she's a peach! + +"'That's a fine clock,' I says to him. He don't take his eyes off the +hoss comin' round the bend. + +"'He's running with freedom and well within himself,' he says. 'That +quatah was in twenty-foh flat! Yes, suh, this watch was presented to +me by membahs of the Breedah's Association to commemorate the victory +of Sweet Alice in the tenth renewal of our classic. You have heard me +speak of Sweet Alice?' + +"'Yes, you told me about her, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'That's sure some +clock.' + +"'If he does not faltah in the stretch, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'I +will presently show you the one minute and fohteen seconds you desiah +upon its face.' + +"The ole man's a good judge of pace,--Trampfast comes home bang in the +fourteen notch. + +"When Pete gets down at the stalls, ole man Sanford walks up to him. + +"'Hyah is a dollah foh you, boy,' he says, 'n' hands Pete a buck. +'That was a well-rated trial.' + +"Pete looks at the silver buck 'n' then at ole man Sanford 'n' then at +me. + +"'What the hell--' he says. + +"'You rough neck!' I says to Pete. Don't you know how to act when a +gentleman slips you somethin'?' + +"'But look a-here,' says Pete. 'He ain't got--' I gives Pete a poke +in the slats. 'Much obliged, sir,' he says, 'n' puts the bone in his +pocket. + +"'You are entirely welcome, mah boy,' says ole man Sanford, wavin' his +hand. + +"'Say,' Pete says to me, 'I think this hoss'll cop without shot in the +arm. He's awful good!' + +"'Not fur mine,' I says. 'He can run fur Sweeney when he ain't got no +hop in him. Just let some sassy hoss look him in the eye fur two jumps +'n' he'll holler, "Please, mister, don't!" Yea, bo',' I says, 'I know +this pup too well. When he's carryin' my kale he'll be shoutin' +hallelooyah with a big joy pill under his belt.' + +"I furgets all about ole man Sanford bein' there. You don't talk about +hoppin' one with strangers listening but he's around so much I never +thinks. All of a sudden he's standin' in front of me lookin' like +there's somethin' hurtin' him. + +"'What's the matter, Mr. Sanford?' I says. + +"'I gathah from yoh convahsation,' says he, 'that it is yoh practise to +supplement the fine courage that God has given the thoroughbred with +vile stimulants. Am I correct in this supposition, suh?' + +"'Why, yes--' I says, kind-a took back. 'When they need it I sure +gives it to 'em.' + +"Ole man Sanford draws hisself up 'n' looks at me like I'm a toad. + +"'Suh,' he says, 'the man who does that degrades himself and the +helpless creature that Providence has placed in his keeping! Not only +that, suh, but he insults the name of the thoroughbred and all it +stands for, still tendahly cherished by some of us. Ah have heard of +this abhorant practise that has come as a part of this mercenary age, +and, suh, Ah abominate both it and the man who would be guilty of such +an act!' + +"'Why, look-a here, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'They're all doin' it. If +you're goin' to train hosses you've got to get in the band wagon. If +_you_ can't give the owner a run fur his money he'll find somebody to +train 'em who can!' + +"'Do you mean to tell me, suh, the wonderful courage displayed by that +mayah when the time came, was false?' says ole man Sanford, pointin' at +Très Jolie's stall. 'Ah saw strong men, the backbone of this state, +suh,' he says, 'watch that mayah come home with tears in their eyes. +Were their natures moved to the depths by an insulting counterfeit of +greatness?' + +"'Why, sure not!' I says. 'But all hosses ain't like this mare.' + +"'They are not, suh!' says ole man Sanford. 'Noh were they intended to +be! But few of us are ordained foh the heights. However,' he says, +puttin' his hand on my shoulder, 'Ah should not censure you too +strongly, young man. In fohcing yoh hawsses to simulate qualities they +do not possess, you are only a part of yoh times. This is the day of +imitation--I find it between the covahs of yoh books--I hear it in the +music yoh applaud--I see it riding by in motah-cars. Imitation--all +imitation!' + +"I ain't hep to this line of chatter--it's by me. But I dopes it out +he's sore at automobiles, + +"'What's wrong with 'em?' I says to him. + +"'Ah don't feel qualified to answer yoh question, suh,' he says. 'Ah +believe the blind pursuit and worship of riches is almost entirely +responsible. It has bred a shallowness and superficiality in and +towahds the finah things of life. But the historian will answer yoh +question at a later day. He can bring a calmness to the task which is +impossible to one surrounded and bewildered by it all.' + +"I ain't any wiser'n I was, but I don't say nothin'. The old man acts +like he's studyin' about somethin'. + +"'Who owns the hawss that just trialed three-quahtahs in fohteen?' he +says, after while. + +"'Jim Sigsbee up at Cynthiana,' I says. + +"'Is Mr. Sigsbee awaheh of the--method you pursue with regahd to +falsely stimulating his hawss?' says ole man Sanford. + +"'Well, I guess yes!' I says. 'Jim won't bet a dollar on him unless +he's got the hop in him.' + +"'Ah shall write to him,' says ole man Sanford, 'n' beats it down the +track toward the gates. + +"I don't see him fur over a week. I figger he's sore at me fur dopin' +hosses. It's a funny thing but, I'm a son-of-a-gun if I don't miss the +ole duck. From the way they talk I see the boys kind-a miss him, too. + +"'I wonder where ole Pierpont's at?' I hears Chick say to Skinny. +'Gone East to see one of his hosses prepped fur the Brooklyn, I guess.' + +"'Naw,' says Skinny; 'you got that wrong. He's goin' to send a stable +to Urope, 'n' Todd Sloan's tryin' to get a contrac' from him as +exercise-boy. Ole Pierpont's watchin' Todd work out a few so he kin +size up his style.' + +"I've wrote Jim Sigsbee Trampfast's ready, but I don't enter the hoss +'cause I know Jim wants to come over 'n' bet a piece of money on him. +I don't hear from Jim, 'n' I wonder why. + +"One day I'm settin' in front of the stalls 'n' here comes ole man +Sanford down the line. + +"'Why, hello, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'We sort-a figgered you'd quit us. +Things ain't gone right since you left. The boys need you to keep 'em +on their toes.' + +"'Ah have not deserted you intentionally, suh,' he says. 'Since Ah saw +you last an old friend of mine has passed to his rewahd. The Hono'able +James Tullfohd Fawcett is no moh, suh--a gallant gentleman has left us.' + +"'That's too bad,' I says. 'Did he leave a family?' + +"'He did not, suh,' says ole man Sanford. 'Ah fell heir to his entiah +estate, only excepting the silvah mug presented to his beloved mothah +at his birth by Andrew Jackson himself, suh. This he bequeathed to the +public, and it will soon be displayed at the rooms of the Historical +Society named in his last will and testament.' + +"'Did you get much out of it?" I says. + +"'He had already endowed me with a friendship beyond price, suh,' he +says. 'His estate was not a large one as such things go--some twelve +hundred dollahs, I believe.' + +"'That's better'n breakin' a leg,' I says. + +"'You will, perhaps, be interested to learn,' he says, 'that Ah have +pu'chased the hawss Trampfast with a po'tion of the money. Hyah is a +lettah foh you from Mr. Sigsbee relative to the mattah.' He hands me a +letter, but I can't hardly read it--his buyin' this hop-head gets my +goat. + +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Race him?' + +"'That is ma intention, suh,' he says. 'Ah expect to keep him in yoh +hands. But, of co'se, suh, the hawss will race on his merits and +without any sawt of stimulant.' + +"I ain't stuck on the proposition. The Trampfast hoss can't beat a +cook stove without the hop. I hate to see the ole man burn up his +dough on a dead one. + +"'Now, Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'times has changed since you raced. If +you'll let me handle this hoss to suit myself I think I can make a +piece of money fur you. The game ain't like it was once, 'n' if you +try to pull the stuff that got by thirty years ago, they'll trim you +right down to the suspenders. They ain't nothin' crooked about +slippin' the hop into a hoss that needs it.' + +"'As neahly as I can follow yoh fohm of speech,' says ole man Sanford, +'you intend to convey the impression that the practise of stimulating a +hawss has become entirely propah. Am I correct, suh?' + +"'That's it,' I says. ''N' you can gamble I'm right.' + +"'Is the practise allowed under present day racing rules?' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' I think I've got him goin'. + +"'Why, sure not,' I says. 'But how long would a guy last if he never +broke a racin' rule?' + +"'Out of yoh own mouth is yoh augument condemned, suh,' says ole man +Sanford. 'Even in this day and generation the rules fohbid it--and let +me say, suh, that should a trainah, a jockey, or any one connected with +a stable of mine, be guilty of wilfully violating a racing rule, Ah +would discharge him at once, suh!' + +"'_You goin' to race on the level all the time_?' I says. + +"'If by that expression you mean hono'ably and as a gentleman--yes, +suh!' + +"'_Good night, nurse_!' I says. 'You'll go broke quick at that game!' + +"'Allow me to remind you that that is ma own affaih, suh,' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' the argument's over. His ideas date back so far they're +mildewed, but I see I can't change 'em. He don't belong around a race +track no more'n your grandmother! + +"'All right, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'You're the doctor! We'll handle +him just like you say.' + +"Peewee Simpson has come over to chew the rag with me, 'n' he hears +most of this talk. + +"'Wait till I call the boys,' he says, when ole man Sanford goes in to +look at the hoss. + +"'What fur?' I says. + +"'Family prayers,' says Peewee. + +"I throws a scraper at him, 'n' he goes on down the line singin', +_Onward, Christian Soldiers_. + +"Ole man Sanford orders a set of silks. He's got to send away fur the +kind he wants 'n' he won't let me start his hoss till they come. +Nobody but big stables pays attention to colors, so I tries to talk him +out of the notion,--nothin' doin'! + +"'Ma colors were known and respected in days gone by, suh,' he says. +'Ah owe it to the public who reposed confidence in the puhple and +white, to fly ma old flag when Ah once moh take the field. Yes, suh.' + +"'Purple 'n' white!' I says. 'Them's the colors of the McVay stable!' + +"'Ah was breeding stake hawsses, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'when his +mothah's milk was not yet dry upon the lips of young McVay.' + +"When the silks come, I picks out a real soft spot for Trampfast. It's +a six furlong ramble fur has-beens 'n' there's sure a bunch of kioodles +in it! Most of 'em ought to be on crutches. My hoss has showed me the +distance in fourteen, 'n' that's about where this gang'll stagger home. +With the hop in him the Trampfast hoss'll give me two seconds better. +He ought to be a swell bet. But the hop puts all the heart in him +there is--he ain't got one of his own. If he runs empty he'll lay down +sure. I can't hop him, so I won't bet on him with counterfeit money. + +"The mawnin' of the race ole man Sanford's at the stalls bright 'n' +early. He's chipper as a canary. He watches Chick hand-rub the hoss +fur a while 'n' then he pulls out a roll 'n' eases Chick two bucks. I +pipes off the roll. The ole man sees me lookin' at it. + +"'Ah intend to wageh moderately today,' he says. 'And Ah have brought +a small sum with me foh the puhpose.' + +"'What you goin' to bet on?' I says. + +"'Ma own hawss, of co'se, suh,' he says. 'It is ma custom to back only +ma own hawsses or those of ma friends.' + +"I don't say nothin'. I'm wise by this time, he plays the game to suit +hisself, but it sure makes me sick. I hate as bad to see the ole man +lose his dough as if it's mine. + +"I goes over 'n' sets down on the track fence. + +"'When you train a hoss fur a guy you do like he says, don't you?' I +says to myself. 'You don't own this hoss, 'n' the owner don't want him +hopped. They ain't but one answer--don't hop him.' + +"'But look-a here,' I says back to myself. 'If you sees a child in +wrong, you tells him to beat it, don't you? It ain't your child, is +it? Well, this ole man ain't nothin' but a child. If he was, he'd let +you hop the hoss, 'n' make a killin' fur him.' I argues with myself +this way, but they can't neither one of us figger it out to suit the +other. + +"'I wish the damned ole fool had somebody else a-trainin' his dog!' I +thinks after I've set there a hour 'n' ain't no further along 'n I was +when I starts. + +"When it's gettin' towards post time, ole man Sanford hikes fur the +stand. + +"'Skinny,' I says, 'amble over to the bettin' shed 'n' watch what the +ole man does. As soon as he's got his kale down, beat it back here on +the jump, 'n' tell me how much he gets on 'n' what the odds are.' + +"In about ten minutes here comes Skinny at a forty shot. + +"'He bets a hundred straight at fifteen-to-one! What do you know about +that?' he hollers. + +"'That settles it!' I says. 'Chick, get them two bottles that's hid +under the rub-rags in the trunk! Now, ole Holler-enough,' I says to +the Tramp, 'you may be a imitation hoss, but we're goin' to make you +look so much like the real thing your own mother won't know you! . . .' + +"When Trampfast starts fur the paddock, his eyes has begun to roll 'n' +he's walkin' proud. + +"'He thinks he's the Zar of Rushy,' says Chick. 'He'll be seein' pink +elephants in a minute.' + +"I don't find ole man Sanford till they're at the post. He's standin' +by the fence at the wire. + +"The start's bein' held up by the Tramp. He's sure puttin' on a +show--the hop's got him as wild as a eagle. It's too far away fur the +ole man to see good, so I don't put him hep it's his hoss that's +cuttin' the didoes. + +"Just then Chick comes up. + +"'I hear you get a nice bet down on your hoss, Mr. Sanford,' he says. +'I sure hope he cops.' + +"'Thank you, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'I only placed a small +wageh, but at vehy liberal odds. Ah shall profit materially should he +win his race.' + +"'If he gets away good he'll roll,' says Chick. 'There's no class to +that bunch, 'n' he's a bear with a shot in him. But he's a bad actor +when he's hopped--look at the fancy stuff he's pullin' now!' + +"'You are mistaken, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'This hawss has had +no stimulant _to-day_.' + +"Like a nut I've furgot to tell the boys the ole man ain't on. I tries +to give Chick the high sign, but he's watchin' the hosses, 'n' before I +can get to him he belches up the glad news. + +"'If _he_ ain't hopped one never was!' he says. 'We put a fierce shot +in him. Look at him act if you don--' + +"I kick his shin off right there, but it's too late, ole man Sanford +gets pale as a rag. + +"'How dare you--' he says, 'n' stops. 'But Ah shall prevent it!' he +says, 'n' starts fur the judge's stand. He ain't got a chance--just +then they get away, 'n' he turns back to me when he hears the crowd +holler, 'They're off!' + +"'Young man,' he says, pointin' at me, 'n' he's shakin' like he's cold. +'What have Ah evah done to you to merit such treatment at yoh hands?' + +"I see there's no use to lie to him, so I gives it to him straight. + +"'Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'the hoss can't win without it, 'n' I don't +want to see you lose your money.' + +"Ole man Sanford sort-a wilts. He seems to get smaller. I've never +noticed how old he is till now. He stands a-lookin' at me like he +never sees me before. + +"The crowd begins to yell as the hosses hit the stretch. The Tramp is +out in front, 'n' he stays there all the way. + +"The ole man never even looks towards the track. + +"'He wins easy,' says Chick as they go under the wire, 'n' all you can +hear is 'Trampfast! Trampfast!' but ole man Sanford still keeps +a-starin' at me. + +"'You want to cheer up, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'You win a nice bet on +him.' + +"He pulls the tickets out of his pocket 'n' looks at 'em. They call +fur sixteen hundred bucks. + +"'As Ah have told you once befoh, young man,' he says, a-lookin' at the +tickets. 'Ah can not blame you greatly, because you are paht of yoh +times. This is the excuse Ah find foh you in thinking Ah would value +money moh than the spohtsmanship of a gentleman. Yoh times are bad, +young man!' he says. 'They have succeeded in staining the puhple and +white at the vehy end. Ah would neveh have raced afteh to-day. It was +a whim of an old man to see his colohs once moh among a field of +hawses. Ah knew Ah was not of this day. Ah should have known bettah +than to become a paht of it even foh a little time. Ah have learned ma +lesson,' he says, lookin' up at me. 'But you have made it vehy bittah.' + +"He looks down at the tickets again fur a minute. . . Then he tears +'em across three ways 'n' drops 'em on the ground." + + + + +CLASS + +"What do you like in the handicap?" I asked, looking up from the form +sheet. + +Blister reached for the paper. + +"Indigo's the class," he said, after a glance at the entries. "If they +run to form, he'll cop." + +"There you go again--with your _class_!" I exclaimed. "You're always +talking about class. What does class mean?" + +"Long as you've been hangin' 'round the track 'n' not know what class +means!" Blister looked at me pityingly. "There's no _class_ to that," +he added, with a grin. + +"Seriously now," I urged. "Explain it to me. Class, as you call it, +is beaten right along. Just the other day you said Exponent was the +class and should have won, but he didn't." + +"He has the most left at that," said Blister. "He wins in three more +jumps. You can't beat class. It'll come back fur more." + +"Molly S. beat him," I insisted. + +"Yep, she beat him that one race," Blister admitted. "But how does she +beat him? Do you notice the boy gets her away wingin' 'n' keeps her +there all the trip? . . . Why? Because he knows she can't come from +behind 'n' win. If the old hoss gets to her any place in the stretch +she lays down to him sure. She ain't got the class 'n' he has. She +can win a race now 'n' then when things break right fur her, but the +Exponent hoss'll win anyway--on three legs if he has to. He's got the +class." + +"How can you get horses with class?" I inquired. "By breeding?" + +"If you want it you lay down big coin fur it," Blister answered. "It +follows blood lines some, but not all the time. I've seed awful dogs +bred clear to the clouds. Then again it'll show in a weanlin'. I've +seed sucklin' colts with class stickin' out all over 'em. Kids has it, +too. It shows real young sometimes." + +"How can a child show anything like that?" I remonstrated. "He has no +opportunity. Class, as I understand it, is deep-seated--part of the +very fiber. It takes a big situation to bring it out. Where did you +ever see a child display this quality?" + +"I've seed it many a time in little dirty-faced swipes," Blister +stated. "I've seed exercise-boys so full of class they put the silks +on 'em before they can bridle a hoss, 'n' they bawl like you've took +away their apple when they lose their first race. You've heard of +Hamilton?" + +"I have been told he is the best sire in America," I replied, wondering +where this question led. + +"I won't say that," said Blister. "There's a lot of good hosses at +stud in this land-of-the-free-when-you-pay-fur-it, but he's up there +with the best of 'em. Did you know I owns him once myself?" + +"Not the great Hamilton?" I protested. + +"Yep, the great all-the-time, anyhow-'n'-any-place Hamilton," Blister +assured me. "'N' speakin' of class in kids 'n' colts, lemme tell you +about it." He reached for his "makin's" and I waited while he rolled a +cigarette, this process being a necessary prelude to a journey into his +past. + +"The year Seattle Sam goes down 'n' out," the words came in a cloud of +cigarette smoke, "I'm at Saratoga. This Seattle is one of the big +plungers, his nod's good with the bookies fur anything he wants to lay, +'n' he sure bets 'em to the sky. He owns a grand string of hosses, 'n' +when one of 'em's out to win, believe me, he carries the coin!" + +"All the same they get him at last 'n' there ain't nothin' else talked +about fur a couple of days when the word goes 'round that he's cleaned. +The bunch acts like somebody's dead. They whisper when they tell it. +It's got 'em dazed. + +"In them days there's a little squirt called Micky that hangs around +the track. He ain't got a regular job; he just picks up odd mounts on +a work-out now 'n' then. He don't weigh eighty pounds, but he's +fresher'n a bucket of paint. His right name's Vincent Mulligan, 'n' +his mother's a widow woman. I learns that 'cause the old lady sends a +truant officer out to the track after him one day, 'n' the cop puts me +wise after Micky has clumb through a stall window, 'n' give him the +slip. + +"'Why, you big truck hoss,' says Micky to the bull as he skidoos +through the window, 'you couldn't catch a cold at the north pole in yer +dirty undershirt!' + +"'Why don't you go to school like you'd ought, Vincent?' I says to +Micky, when he shows up the next day. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. 'Say, are you ever goin' to let me +work one of yer dogs out in place of that smoke?' he says, pointin' at +Snowball, my exercise-boy. + +"'Who you callin' a smoke?' says Snowball, startin' fur Micky. 'I'll +slap the ugly I'ish mouth off you!' + +"Micky picks up a pitchfork. + +"'Go awn, you black boob!' he says. 'If I reaches fer yer gizzard with +this tickler, I gets it!' + +"Snowball backs up. I grabs the fork from the little shrimp. + +"'Now, you beat it!' I says to him. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. He lays down on a bail of straw 'n' +pulls his hat over his face. 'If any guy bothers me while I'm gettin' +my rest,' he says, 'call a hearse. Don't wake me up till some guy +wants a hoss worked out.' + +"One day I goes to lay a piker's bet in Ike Rosenberg's book. + +"'All across on Tantrum,' I says to Ike. + +"'Hello, Blister,' says Ike, when he goes to hand me the ticket. 'I +like that one myself. Go over 'n' lay me a hundred 'n' fifty the same +way,--here's the change.' + +"When I bring Ike his ticket he tells me to wait a minute, 'n' pretty +soon he puts a sheet-writer on the block 'n' steps down. + +"'Come over here,' he says, 'n' I trails him out of the bettin' shed. +'I've took a two-year-old for a thousand dollar marker of Seattle's,' +says Ike, swingin' 'round on me. 'You want him?' + +"'To train, you mean?' I says, 'Is that it?' + +"'Sure,' says Ike. 'You can have him on shares if you want.' + +"'Tell me about him,' I says. + +"'Well,' says Ike, 'he's a big little hoss made good all over. He +ain't never started yet, but he's been propped for two months. He's by +Edgemont. First dam, Cora, by Musketeer. Second dam, Débutante, by +Peddler. Third dam, Daisy Dean, by Salvation. Fourth dam, Iole, by +Messenger. He's registered as Hamilton, 'n' that's all I know.' + +"'That's sure some breedin',' I says. 'But I never takes a colt on +shares. I'll handle him fur you as careful as I know how 'n' it'll +cost you fifty a month. That's the best I can do.' + +"'I'll send him over this evenin',' says Ike. 'Let me know what you +think of him after he works out for you.' + +"I like this Hamilton colt the minute I gets my lamps on him. He ain't +over fifteen hands, but he's all hoss. He'll weigh right at nine +hundred, 'n' that's quite a chunk of a two-year-old. He's got a fine +little head on him 'n' his eye has the right look. A good game hoss'll +look at you like a eagle. I don't want nothin' to do with a sheep-eyed +pup. This colt has a eye like a game cock. + +"Peewee Simpson is at my stalls when they brings the colt over, 'n' +after we've sized him up I asks Peewee what he thinks of the little +rooster. + +"'Him?' says Peewee. 'He's a bear-cat. I'll bet he entertains you +frequent 'n' at short notice. I don't figger him related to Mary's +lamb, not any. You better keep your eye on little Hamilton. Hammy's +likely to be a naughty boy any time.' + +"Peewee's got the correct hunch--the first time Snowball takes him out +Hamilton runs off 'n' the boy don't get him stopped till he romps five +miles. + +"'Can't you stop him sooner'n that?' I says to Snowball when he's back. + +"Micky's at the stalls that mawnin', 'n' he butts in, as usual. + +"'Stop him!' he says. 'That black boob couldn't stop a hoss in a box +stall. Lemme me have him next work-out!' + +"'I'll let you have a slap on the ear,' I says. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. + +"Next work-out day Hamilton pulls off the same stunt. He's feelin' +extra good that mawnin', I guess, 'cause he makes a nine mile trip of +it. Micky stands there with me, watchin' the colt go round 'n' round +the track. + +"'Why don't you can that choc'lit drop,' he says, ''n' put a white man +up?' + +"'Meanin' you?' I says. 'You'd holler fur your milk bottle before he +goes a eighth with you.' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. + +"I borrows a curb 'n' chain from Eddy Murphy--he's been usin' it on ole +Dandelion. It's fierce--you can bust a hoss's jaw with it. I puts it +on Hamilton next work-out. + +"'I guess that'll hold little Hammy,' I says, when Snowball's up. But +it don't. The colt ain't any more'n felt the curb when he bolts into +the fence 'n' chucks Snowball off. I starts to catch the hoss, but +Micky gets to him first 'n' grabs him. + +"'Lemme give him a whirl,' he says. 'Come on--be a sport fur a change!' + +"Snowball rolls away from the colt 'n' picks hisself up. + +"'He is shoh welcome to him,' he says. 'I got no moh use foh him.' + +"I studies a minute, lookin' at Micky. He don't come much above +Hamilton's knee. He's lookin' at me like a pup beggin' fur a bone. + +"'Go to it, you ornery little shrimp!' I says at last. 'If a worse +pair ever gets together I've never seed it!' + +"Micky gives a yelp like a terrier. + +"'Take off this bit 'n' put a straight bar on him,' he says. + +"'Why, you couldn't hold one of his ears with a bar bit,' I says. + +"'Who's ridin' this hoss?' says Micky. 'Go awn, get the bit!' + +"'Get him what he wants,' I says to Snowball. + +"We leads the colt on to the track, when the bits is changed, 'n' just +as I throws Micky up I see he's got a bat. + +"'What you goin' to do with that?' I says. 'You need a parachute, not +a whip!' + +"'_I_ always ride 'em with a bat. Turn him loose,' says Micky. + +"Well, it's the same thing over again, the colt runs off. All Micky +does is to keep him in the track. I see he ain't pullin' a pound. +They've gone about six mile 'n' Hamilton begins to slow a little. Just +then Micky lights into him with the bat. + +"'Look at dat!' says Snowball. 'He's los' his min'.' + +"'_No, he ain't_!' I says. '_He's there forty ways_!' I've just begun +to tumble the kid's wise as owls. 'Oh, you Micky!' I hollers. 'Go to +it, you white boy!' + +"I hate to tell you how far that kid works the hoss. He keeps handin' +him the bat every other jump. It gets so I can run as fast as they're +movin' 'n' Hamilton's just prayin' fur help. I'm afraid he'll jim the +colt fur good, so I yells at Micky to cut it out, when he comes by. + +"'Come down off of that, you squirt!' I says. 'Do you want to kill the +colt?' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' he says, 'n' 'round they go again. When +Hamilton ain't got more'n a good stagger left, Micky rides him through +the gate to the stall. + +"'Now, pony,' he says to Hamilton, 'don't start nothin' you can't +finish.' + +"The trip kills a ordinary hoss, but they ain't nothin' ordinary about +this Hamilton. I learns _that_ then. We cools him out good 'n' in +three days he's kickin' the roof off the stall. + +"Come work-out day Micky goes up on Hamilton. Say, the colt eats out +of his hand. Micky's got him buffaloed right. He gallops Hamilton a +nice mile 'n' pulls up at the gate. + +"'What do you want him to do now? Stand on his head?' he says. 'Times +is dull.' + +"'Shoot him three furlongs,' I says. + +"'Shoot is the word,' says Micky. + +"Hamilton romps the three furlongs in nothin' flat--I'm tickled sick. + +"'He's a bear!' I says to Micky at the stalls. ''N' as fur you--you're +on the pay-roll.' + +"'Why, you're a live one, ain't you?' says Micky. 'Wait till I go +chase the Smoke!' The next thing I see is Snowball goin' down the line +like a quarter hoss, 'n' Micky's proddin' at him with a pitchfork. + +"'He won't be back,' says Micky, when he's puttin' up the fork. + +"'Now, look-a here,' I says, 'you got to cut this rough stuff, if you +works fur me.' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky to me. + +"Right then I gets him by the collar, 'n' takes a bat from the rack. I +works on him till the bat's wore out 'n' then reaches fur another. +Micky ain't opened his face. I wears that one out 'n' grabs another. +Micky looks up at the rack--there's four more bats left. + +"'Nix on number three!' he yells. 'I'm listenin' to you!' + +"'All right,' I says, hangin' up the bat. 'Now, listen good. _Cut out +this rough stuff_--you got me?' + +"'I got you,' says Micky. + +"I tells Ike he's got a good colt, but only one boy can ride him. Ike +comes over to the stalls with me to see the boy 'n' Hamilton. + +"'Not that kid?' he says, when he takes a slant at Micky. 'A +hobby-hoss lets him out.' + +"Micky goes straight up. + +"'Why, you fat-headed Kike!' he says. 'The only thing you can tell me +about a hoss is how much the nails cost to hold his shoes on.' + +"Ike turns to me. + +"'Don't never let that boy throw a leg over a hoss of mine again,' he +says. 'Enter this colt in the two-year-old scramble Friday. I'll get +Whitman to ride. I guess _he'll_ hold him.' + +"'Now, look at that!' I says to Micky when Ike's gone. 'You _will_ +shoot off your face, won't you? Ain't you _never_ goin' to learn to +keep that loud trap of yours closed?' + +"'Aw, you go--' Micky stops there. + +"I takes a step towards the whip rack. + +"'Come on--' I says, 'let's hear from you!' + +"'--to hell with the big Kike!' says Micky. + +"'Does that let me in?' I says. + +"Micky studies a minute lookin' at me 'n' the bats in the rack. + +"'Naw--just the Kike,' he says at last. + +"When Whitman's up on Hamilton, before they goes to the post, I tries +to put him wise. + +"'You're on a bad actor, Whitty,' I says. 'If you ain't on your toes, +he runs off with you sure.' This Whitman's a star, 'n' nobody knows it +better'n him. + +"'What do _you_ hire a jock fur?' he says. 'Why don't you train 'n' +ride both?' + +"'All right,' I says. 'I'm _tellin'_ you now!' + +"'If this hoss is ready,' says Whitman, 'you've earned your +money--don't work overtime.' + +"I goes through the paddock 'n' out on the lawn. Before I'm there I +hears the crowd yellin'. When I can see the track, there's the field +at the post all but Hamilton. He 'n' Whitty has made a race all to +theirselves. It turns out to be a six mile ramble with only one entry. + +"I goes to the stand 'n' scratches Hamilton while he's still runnin'. +The field waits at the post till they get a clear track. + +"'I didn't know this was a distance race,' I says to Whitty when he +gets down. Whitty's sore as a crab, the bunch'll mention it to him the +rest of the season. + +"'You don't want a jock on this thing,' he says. 'A engineer is what +he needs.' + +"'Sell him,' is the first words Ike says to me when I sees him. + +"'_Sell him_?' I says. 'You must be drunk! Why, he don't bring a ten +case note. Everybody's hep he's a bolter. Now listen! This is a real +good colt, 'n' I know it; but the bunch don't. That boy of mine can +ride him. If you gives the colt another chance with my boy up, he +shows 'em somethin'. Then you can get a price fur him.' + +"'Do what you like with him,' says Ike. 'But I don't pay out another +simoleon on him! I'm through right now!' + +"'Give me half what he wins his next out 'n' _I'll_ take a chance with +him,' I says. + +"'You're on,' says Ike. 'But you pay the entrance.' + +"'Surest thing you know,' I says, 'n' goes over to the stalls. + +"In two weeks there's to be a handicap fur two-year-olds. It's worth +three thousand to the winner. It's the best baby race at the meetin'. +Hamilton'll come in awful light 'n' he'll get five pounds apprentice +allowance fur Micky; but it'll put a big crimp in my roll to pay the +entrance. I studies over it some 'n' I gets cold feet. It takes three +hundred bones to sit in. I've about decided it's too rich fur my +blood, when next work-out day comes 'n' Hamilton works four furlongs, +with Micky up, like a cyclone. That gets my circulation goin' 'n' I +takes a shot at it. + +"'Who's burning this up on the ten mile wonder?' says the sec. to me, +when I'm payin' the entrance. 'The work seems a little coarse for my +old friend Ike.' + +"'I'm Smiling Faces this load of poles,' I says. + +"'Why, Blister,' says the sec. 'I never thought it of you! But we're +much obliged to you just the same.' + +"There's eight starters in the handicap besides Hamilton. One of 'em's +a big clumsy colt named Hellespont. The bunch calls him the Elephant, +'n' he's sour as lemons. I see his eyes a-rollin' in the paddock, 'n' +I know he's hopped. Just as the parade starts he begins to cut the +mustard. He rears 'n' tries to come down all spraddled out on the colt +ahead of him in the line, but the jock runs him into a stall 'n' they +take hold of him till the rest is out on the track. + +"Micky ain't had no experience at the post. I've borrowed a pair of +glasses 'n' I'm watchin' the get-a-way pretty anxious. Hamilton's +actin' fine, but the Elephant is holdin' up the start. All of a sudden +he rears clear up 'n' comes down across Hamilton. The colt does a flop +'n' I see the Elephant rear 'n' stamp him a couple a times before the +assistant drives him off with the bull whip." + +[Illustration: "I see the Elefant stamp him."] + +"'Good-by, three hundred!' I says to myself, I can't see good fur the +dust, but they pulls Micky out from under the colt, 'n' when I gets +another slant, Hamilton's on his feet 'n' the starter's talkin' at +Micky. I can see Micky shakin' his head. It ain't long till they puts +him up again. + +"'That's the good game kid!' I says out loud. 'Oh, you 'Micky boy!' +also out loud. + +"They get off to a nice start. When they hit the stretch I throws my +hat away. Hamilton's in front two lengths. A eighth from home I see +there's somethin' wrong with Micky. He's got his bat 'n' lines in his +left mitt. His right hook is kind-a floppin' at his side, but +Hamilton's runnin' true 'n' strong. The colt looks awful good to the +sixteenth 'n' then his gait goes clear to the bad. I see he's all shot +to pieces behind, 'n' he's stoppin' fast. I'm standin' at the inner +rail ten len'ths from the wire, 'n' the Elephant colt gets to Hamilton +right in front of me. + +"'I gotcha, jock!' yells the boy on the Elephant. + +"'They don't pay off here,' says Micky, 'n' sticks the lines in his +face. Then he goes to the bat with his south hook 'n' Hamilton lays +back his ears 'n' runs true again. . . . He out-games the Elephant a +nod at the wire 'n' I'm twelve hundred to the clear. + +"When I gets to 'em, Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against +Hamilton. The colt's shakin' all over 'n' his hind feet's in a big +pool of blood. I gives a' look 'n' the left rear tendon is tore off +from hock to fetlock. + +"'Good God, look at that!' I says to Micky. + +"Micky turns 'n' looks. + +"'Aw, pony . . .' he says, 'n' busts out cryin'. He leans up against +the colt again 'n' he's shakin' as bad as Hamilton. + +"Just then the boy gets down from the Elephant. + +"'I'd a beat that dog in another jump,' he says to Micky. + +"'You?' says Micky. 'I'm goin' to _kill you_!' He starts fur the boy, +but he turns kind-a greeny white 'n' does a flop on the track. + +"When I goes to pick him up I see a bone comin' through the flesh just +above the wrist on his right hook. + +"We puts him in a blanket 'n' the swipes start to carry him off. + +"'What's the matter with the kid?' says Ike comin' up. + +"'Arm broke, I guess,' I says." + +"Ike sees the blood 'n' walks behind Hamilton. + +"'I wish it was his neck,' he says, pointin' at the tendon. 'That's +what you get fur puttin' a pin-headed apprentice on a good hoss! Get +him so he can hobble, 'n' sell him to a livery if you can. If not, +have him shot.' + +"Hamilton's standin' there a-shakin'. His eyes has the look you always +sees in a hoss just after he's ruined. + +"'What'll you take fur him?' I says to Ike. + +"'Take fur him?' he says. 'Whatever he'll bring. I ain't out nothin' +on him. I splits three thousand with you to the race.' + +"'You owe me a hundred 'n' thirty fur trainin',' I says. 'I calls it +off 'n' keeps the hoss.' + +"'You've bought him,' says Ike, 'n' goes back to the bettin' shed. + +"They take Micky to the hospital. The doc says his arm's broke 'n' +he's hurt inside. He comes to before they puts him in the ambulance. + +"'Why didn't you let another boy ride?' says the assistant starter, +who's helpin' the doc. + +"'Ride hell!' says Micky. 'He runs off with them other boobs.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee Simpson gets Hamilton to the stall. It takes him just +one hour to do that hundred yards, but I've got a tight bandage above +the hock 'n' he don't bleed so bad. + +"'Can you get him so he can walk?' I says to the vet. when he's looked +at the colt. + +"'Yes,' he says; 'but that'll be about all for him. I advise you to +have him destroyed. What hoss _is_ this?' + +"'Hamilton,' I says. 'He just wins the colt race.' + +"'So?' he says. 'I didn't see it. When did _this_ happen?' + +"'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.' + +"'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?' + +"'He did,' I says. + +"'On _that_?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do, +kid me?' + +"'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter +a damn to me whether you believe it or not!' + +"'Why, you _ain't_ kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute--' + +"He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several. + +"'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!' + +"'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more. + +"'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.' + +"'What did you ever buy _him_ for?' he says. + +"I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton. + +"'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says. + +"'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?' + +"I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round +the colt a couple a times. + +"'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off +your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight--_this +hoss wont never do more than walk_. But he's bred out a sight 'n' I +like his looks. There's a chance somebody could use him in the stud. +I'm willin' to get him in some sort-a shape 'n' see if I can't make a +piece of money on him. What do you say?" + +"'Well,' I says, 'you're fixed better to get him in shape'n me. I just +wanted to give the little hoss a show. If _you'll_ give it to him, +he's yours.' + +"'Here's your money,' says the vet. 'I'll send my wagon for him +to-morrow. Let me have a lantern till I get this leg so it won't hurt +him so bad to-night.' + +"The next day every paper I picks up has a great big write-up in it +about Micky 'n' the colt. Until the wagon comes fur him there's a +regular procession to the stall to look at Hamilton, 'n' when I goes to +the hospital that night you can't see Micky fur flowers around his bed. + +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'Do they think I'm a stiff?' + +"'Sh-h-h!' says the sister that's nursin' him. + +"I don't see Hamilton fur a month. One day I goes over to the big +Eastern sale at New York, just to hear ole Pappy Danforth sell 'em. +Pappy's stood on a block all his life. He knows every hoss-man in the +country. When _he_ tells you about a hoss, it's right; 'n' everybody +takes his tip. He just about sells 'em where they ought to go. + +"There's a fierce crowd at the sale 'n' some grand stuff goes under the +hammer. Pappy kids the crowd along 'n' sells 'em so fast it makes you +dizzy. They don't more'n lead a hoss out till he's gone. + +"All of a sudden Pappy climbs clear up on the desk in front of him 'n' +stands there a minute, pushin' back his long white hair. + +"'Na-ow, boys!' he says. 'I'm goin' to sell you a three-legged hoss! +An'--listen to the ole man--he's wuth more'n any four-legged hoss, +livin' or dead!' + +"I rubbers hard to get a look at a hoss Pappy boosts like that, 'n' I +nearly croaks when they lead Hamilton into the ring. The colt's a +dink, right. He's stiff as a poker behind, but he's still got that +game-cock look to his eye. + +"'Na-ow, boys!' sings out Pappy, 'there's the biggest little hoss ever +you saw! Don't look at him--any of you fellahs that wants a yellah +dawg to win a cheap race with! _He_ ain't in _that_ class. Step +forwahd, you breeders, an' grasp a golden opportunity! Send the best +brood mares you've got to this little hoss . . . he's a giant! _You +hear me--a giant_! Ed Tumble, I'm talkin' to you! I'm talkin' to you, +Bill Masters--an' Harry Scott there . . . an' Judge Dillon . . . an' +all you big breeders! You've _read_ what this little hoss done in the +newspapers. You can _see_ his breedin' in your catalogues. You can +_look him over_ as he stands there! But best of all--_listen to the +old man_! when he tells you he never held a hammer over a better one in +fifty years. Na-ow, boys! I'm goin' to sell him for the high dollah, +an' the man who gets him at any price . . . _you hear me--at any +price_! . . . is goin' to have the laugh on the rest of you fellahs! +Aw-l-l right--_what do I hear_?' + +"'Five hundred!' says some guy. + +"'Why, Frank, five hundred won't buy a hair out of his tail . . . _what +do I hear_?' says Pappy. + +"'Two thousand!' yells somebody. + +"'Na-ow listen, Tom, if you want the little hoss, cut out this triflin' +an' bid for him,' says Pappy. '_What do I hear_?' + +"'Five thousand!' some guy hollers. + +"'That's just a nice little start . . . _what do I hear_?' says Pappy, +'n' I goes into a trance. + +"I don't come to till I hears Pappy sing out: + +"'So-o-ld to you for sixteen thousand dollahs, Mr. Humphrey, _an' you +never bought a cheaper one_!' + +"It's a wonder I ain't run over gettin' to the depot. I don't know +where I'm at. I just keeps sayin' 'sixteen thousand--sixteen +thousand--' over 'n' over to myself. I beats it out to the hospital +when I gets back, to tell Micky. They're goin' to let him out in a day +or so 'n' Micky's settin' up in a chair with wheels to it. + +"'Give a guess what Hamilton brings in the Big Eastern,' I says to him. + +"'I dunno,' says he. 'How much?' + +"'Sixteen thousand bucks!' I says. 'How does that lay on your +stummick?' + +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'That ain't nothin'--look-a-here!' + +"He shoves a paper at me he's been holdin' in his mitt. It's a ridin' +contract fur two years with the Ogden stable at ten thousand a year. + +"So you see, just like I tells you," Blister wound up, "they lay down +real money fur _class_." + +"The man who bought the horse," I said, "certainly got what he paid +for--everybody knows _now_ that Hamilton has class. But how about the +boy?" + +"Did you ever see Vincent ride?" Blister looked at me inquiringly. + +"I saw him ride once in the English Derby," I replied. "Why?" + +"Well," said Blister, "his mother lives in New York in a brownstone +house he bought her, with two Swede girls to do as much work as she'll +let 'em. When he comes home, she calls him 'Micky.' Is there class to +him?" + +"Yes," I said, "there's class to him." + + + + +EXIT BUTSY + +"What's all them rubes got ribbons on 'em fur?" asked Blister. + +I followed his gaze to a group of variously garbed men and women who +had just rounded the paddock, and who slowly bore down upon us as they +drifted from stall to stall in a haphazard inspection of the great +racing plant at Latonia. Prominent upon the person of each member of +this party was a bountiful strip of yellow ribbon. The effect was +decidedly gay. + +I had encountered similar ribbons in every nook and cranny of the Queen +City during the last few days, and I knew that each bore in thirty-six +point Gothic condensed, the words, "Ohio State Grange." + +"Those are Ohio farmers and their wives who are attending a convention +in Cincinnati," I explained. "The ribbons are convention badges." + +Blister allowed the saddle girth he was mending to lie unnoticed across +his knees as the delegates by twos and threes straggled past. + +Each female member of the party carried a round paper fan with a cane +handle, and talked unceasingly. These streams of conversation were +entirely regardless of one another. It was as though many brooks +babbled onward side by side, but never joined. One fragment that +reached us, I preserved. + +"An' I sez to the doctor when he come, sez I, 'Doctor, I ain't held a +bite on my stummick these three livelong days!'" This was delivered by +a buxom dame, fanning vigorously the meanwhile, and was noteworthy +since the lady was closely followed by a little man whose frailty +suggested dissolution, and who bore a large lunch box under one arm and +a heavy child upon the other. + +The men appeared somewhat interested in the pampered nervous-looking +thoroughbreds, but made few comments. As compared to their women folk +they seemed more silent than the very tomb itself. + +Long after the grangers had drifted out of our sight, Blister's +thoughts seemed devoted to them. Several times he chuckled to himself. + +"Every time I see a bunch of rubes," he said at last, "it puts me in +mind of Butsy Trimble 'n' the new stalls at Lake Minnehaha Park." + +"Lake Minnehaha Park," I repeated. "I never heard of such a place." + +"It's up at Mount Clinton," Blister explained. "It's Ohio's beauty +spot." + +"Get out!" I scoffed. + +"Fact!" said Blister. "It says so right over the gates." + +"Tell me about it," I demanded. + +"This ain't been so long ago," said Blister. "The meetin' here at +Latonia is about over. Ole Whiskers has put the game on the fritz in +New York, so everybody's studyin' where to ship when get-away day +comes, 'n' the whole bunch is sore as bears--you can't get a pleasant +word from nobody. + +"All I got in my string is some two-year-olds of Judge Dillon's. They +go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried +none--not about where to ship. + +"One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with +a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss +paper. + +"'Gimme high, jack, game--' says Peewee, after a hand. + +"'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?' + +"'I s'pose you want to count fur game--don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll +give it to you sooner'n argue with you.' + +"'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says. + +"'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd +rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?' + +"'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't +hog game!' + +"Peewee lays down his cards. + +"'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this +bale of hay--it'll _poison_ a hoss if _you_ set on it much longer!' + +"'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog +_it_ like you does game?' + +"'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee. + +"'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where +she is till she makes her last flicker.' + +"'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act +like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out +of this paper--us three can pull it off to a finish!' + +"'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee +then to me. + +"'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around +here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!' + +"Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up. He shows us an ad in +his paper askin' fur entries to race over the Ohio Short Ship Circuit. +This circuit is a bunch of race meets that's held on the bull rings at +county fairs up through the state. They're trottin' races mostly, but +they give one runnin' race at a different town each week. + +"'Now,' says Butsy, 'I'm born 'n' raised in Mount Clinton, Ohio. I +sees the race meet there frequent 'n' she's a peach. You can have a +hoss lay down 'n' go to sleep on the track if you don't want him to win +'n' then tell the judges he's got spring fever. Everything goes except +murder. We'll take that black stud of mine 'n' Peewee's bay geldin' +'n' hit this punkin circuit. We can win a purse each week fur +travelin' expenses, 'n' what we cops on the side is velvet.' + +"'What do you want me fur?' I says. + +"'Why,' says Butsy, 'at these county fairs there ain't no bookies. +They just bets from hand to hand. While me 'n' Peewee rides, you +sashay out among the rubes 'n' get the coin down on whichever hoss we +frames to win.' + +"We sets there 'n' talks over the proposition most all night. Butsy +says it's a cinch 'n' it ain't long till me 'n' Peewee figgers he's got +it doped right. + +"'Let's go against it, Blister,' Peewee says to me. 'What do you say, +old pal?' + +"'I'm there with bells on,' I says, 'n' that settles it. I ships my +colts to Judge Dillon, 'n' the next week we start. + +"These punkin races is all half-mile dashes, best two out of three. +Peewee's geldin' is a distance hoss--he don't get goin' good under a +mile. In a bull-ring sprint he ain't got a chance with this black stud +of Butsy's. + +"Our game is to have Butsy turn his dash-hound loose the first heat. +Then I ambulates out among the rubes 'n' acts like I'm willing to bet +on the bay geldin'. If I finds a live one, Butsy takes his hoss up in +his lap the last two trips 'n' Peewee comes on 'n' grabs the gravy. + +"We figger the rubes'll eat it up after seein' that nice-lookin' black +stud romp away with the first heat. But right there the dope falls +down--the rubes ain't as dead as they look. + +"In the first town we strike I eases up to a tall Jasper after the +black hoss has grabbed the opener on the bit. + +"'Say, pardner,' I says, 'do you ever bet a piece of money on a race?' + +"This Jasper is just a Adam's apple surrounded by arms 'n' legs. + +"'Well, I should say as much,' he says. 'But most ginrally they wan't +nobody bet with me. Up in Liberty Township the boys call me Lucky +Andy.' + +"'It's a crime to do this!' I says to myself. 'I'll make a little bet +with you, pardner,' I says out loud. 'Not much though--you're too +lucky!' + +"'How was ye calkewlatin' to bet?' says the Jasper. + +"'This black hoss acted kind-a tired to me,' I says. 'I'll just bet +you twenty bucks he don't win the race.' + +"'You look like a smart little cuss,' he says. 'What's good enough fer +you is good enough fer me.' He beats it over to where another rube is +settin' in a buggy. 'Hi, Bill!' says my Jasper, 'I'll just bet ye +fifty cents the black hawse dun't win the race--even if I do lose!' + +"That's the way it goes right along--the rubes stay away from it. Once +in a while I finds a mark but not often. We win a purse though in +every town 'n' this just about pays expenses. We ain't makin' nothin' +much, but we ain't losin' nothin' neither. We're eatin' regular 'n' +enjoyin' ourselves, except Butsy. _He_ wouldn't enjoy hisself at a dog +fight. + +"This Butsy Trimble is a thin solemn gink 'n' he almost never cracks a +smile. He's got it doped out that everybody's agin him. Peewee 'n' me +has knocked around together so much we knows each other's ways, but we +ain't never had much to do with this Butsy, so we ain't wise to him at +first. + +"It ain't long till Butsy begins to figger we're tryin' to hand it to +him. He gets sour-balled about everythin' we does. We try to kid him, +but he ain't hep to a kid 'n' he don't stand fur it like he'd ought. +His favorite stunt is to say he'll take his hoss 'n' quit. He springs +this right along. + +"From the start this trip gets to Peewee's funny bone. He don't do +nothin' but laugh. Butsy don't see nothin' funny about it, 'n' he gets +to thinkin' Peewee's laughin' at him. + +"Peewee'll lay in the stall at night 'n' laugh 'n' laugh. Pretty soon +he'll get me goin', 'n' then we'll lay 'n' snort fur a hour. Butsy +can't go to sleep 'n' he gets wild. + +"'What th' hell are you laughin' at?' he says. 'If you don't cut this +out 'n' let me get my rest I'll quit the game tomorrow!' + +"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n' +Butsy'll quit. + +"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we +grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot--he +acts more cheerful right away. + +"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know +every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County +plow-pushers.' + +"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we +unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was. + +"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him. + +"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy. + +"'How do you get out?' says Peewee. + +"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says +Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.' + +"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us +gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n' +we'll come out on the street-car.' + +"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out +the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll +just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.' + +"'Now, Butsy,' I says, 'have some sense! We ain't slippin' you +nothin'. I'd take the dogs 'n' leave you 'n' Peewee ride if I knew the +way. What do you want to make a crack about quittin' fur just as the +game's gettin' good?' I says. 'We cops a neat little bundle at our +last stop, 'n' we'll grab a nice piece of change here. I feel it in my +bones.' + +"'All right,' says Butsy. 'I'll be the goat just once more--but take +it from me this is the last time!' + +"'Send a wagon fur the trunk when you get up-town,' I says to Butsy +when he's goin'. + +"'Furget it!' he says. 'Put her on the street-car. The car runs right +into Minnehaha Park 'n' you can unload her in front of the stalls.' + +"'You can't take a trunk on a street-car,' I says. + +"'Wait till you see this street-car,' says Butsy. + +"'Ain't they but one?' says Peewee. + +"'That's all,' says Butsy. 'Orphy Shanner runs it.' + +"Me and Peewee stands a-waitin' fur the street-car fur thirty minutes, +then I goes into the freight depot office. + +"'Is the street-car runnin'?' I says to the old gazink at the desk. + +"'Ye can't rightly call it runnin',' he says. 'It ain't been settled +yet. Some claims she dun't, some claims she do. Them that claims she +dun't is those who've rid on her.' + +"'Well, whatever she does,' I says, 'will she get here this mawnin'? I +got to get to the race track.' + +"'I'll call up Orphy an' see,' says the old gazink. 'Hello, Tessie,' +he says, after he grinds away at the telephone handle fur a while. +'Git a-holt of Orphy Shanner fer me out to th' park--that's a good +girl.' In about ten minutes somebody begins to talk over the phone. +'Say, Orphy, this is Ed at the B. & O. Freight,' says the old gazink. +'I got a passenger down here fer ye.' Then he listens at the phone. +'I don't know who he is. He's a stranger tu me,' he says, 'n' listens +some more. 'All right, I'll tell him,' he says, 'n' hangs up the phone. + +"'Orphy says fer me to tell ye thet he's comin' in to get Mrs. Boone at +the Public Square at eleven o'clock,' he says to me. 'He's goin' to +take her out High Street to a whisk party at Mrs. Pucker's, an' he'll +come down here an' git ye then.' + +"'Why, it ain't ten o'clock yet,' I says. + +"'Well, you kin set in here out of the rain an' wait,' he says. + +"I thinks we better walk 'n' then I remembers that cussed trunk. + +"'Much obliged,' I says. 'I'll go out 'n' get my friend.' + +"'Be they two of ye?' says he. 'Jeerusalem, I told Orphy they wa'n't +but one.' + +"When I gets back with Peewee, the old gazink pushes a couple of chairs +at us. + +"'Set right down, boys,' he says, ''n' make yourselves mis'able.' Then +he puts a chew in his face that would choke a he-elephant 'n' begins to +ask us questions. The only thing he don't ask us he don't think of. +He'll stop right in the middle of a word 'n' say, 'pit-too-ee,' 'n' hit +a flat box full of sawdust dead center. I don't see him miss once.' + +"After he's got us pumped dry he begins to tell us what _he_ knows, 'n' +believe me he's got a directory beat to a custard. He hands us some +info about everybody who's alive in Mount Clinton 'n' then starts in on +the cemetery. He works back till he's talkin' about some 'dead an' +gone these twenty year,' as he says. + +"I happens to look at Peewee--Peewee's in a trance. He can't look +away. He's noddin' his head 'n' his eyes has got a glassy stare. I +goes outside quick 'n' lays up against the side of the buildin'. + +"When I get back the old gazink is still workin' on Peewee, but all of +a sudden he stops 'n' listens. + +"'Pit-too-ee--there's your car, boys!' he says, 'n' then I begins to +hear a groanin' sound. + +"Man! they ain't no way to tell you about that street-car! She falls +to pieces only they wraps all the upper parts together with wire till +she looks like a birdcage. A big freckled guy with red hair is runnin' +her 'n' I know just by lookin' at him it's Orphy. + +"'Howdy, boys,' he says to us when he gets to where we're standin'. +'Jump aboard! I'm goin' down far as the pumpin' station an' the brakes +ain't workin' just like they'd ought-a this mornin'.' + +"'We've got a trunk,' I says. + +"'Oh!' he says, 'n' spins the whirligig. She keeps right on goin'. +Then he runs back 'n' yanks the trolley off, 'n' she begins to slow +down. 'Git your trunk an' fetch it to where I stop at!' he hollers. +'The cut-off ain't workin' just like it ought-a this mornin'.' + +"We lugs the trunk down to the car 'n' puts her on the back platform. + +"'That's the way things goes!' says Orphy. 'I hadn't figgered on no +trunk. Ed never tells me nothin' about it. You better set on it,' he +says. 'The seats ain't just in first-class shape this mornin'.' I +looks inside at the seats, 'n' he's got it doped right--some chickens +has spent the night on 'em. + +"After we gets to goin' Orphy pokes his head in the door. + +"'The company don't allow me to handle the money,' he says. 'But my +friends most gen'ally drop the fare down the right-hand side of the +slot.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee goes forward 'n' looks at the money box. The front of +the car has warped till there's a big crack in the right-hand side of +the box you can see the platform through. I drops two nickels in on +that side, 'n' bing! they go down the shoot 'n' out the crack. They +falls on the platform 'n' Orphy picks 'em up 'n' goes south with 'em. + +"'That's what I call a live guy!' says Peewee. 'I'm proud to know him.' + +"Pretty soon Orphy comes back 'n' jerks the trolley off 'n' we stop on +a big square with a monument in the middle. + +"'We got to wait here at the Public Square fer Mrs. Boone,' he says. + +"In about twenty minutes here comes a dame across the Square. She's +sixteen hands high 'n' will girt according. She belongs in the +heavy-draft class 'n' she's puffin' some. + +"'How-dee-do, Orphy,' she says. 'I'm a mite late, but I didn't get +shet of my peach butter as quick as I aimed to.' + +"'That's all right, Missus Boone,' says Orphy. 'The company allows me +a liberal schedool. Set right down on the trunk, Missus Boone. I +wouldn't resk the seats this mornin' if I was you.' + +"'What's wrong with 'em?' says Mrs. Boone, 'n' pokes her head in the +door. 'Land a Liberty!' she says. 'I shall certainly write to the +_Banner_ about this! I call it disgraceful!' Then she sets down on +the trunk. + +"I'm standin' up, but Peewee's still on it. She covers the whole +trunk, but a little corner, 'n' Peewee tries to set on that. + +"'Why don't you give the lady some room?' I says to Peewee, 'n' he gets +up 'n' leaves her have the trunk. + +"'You're a real polite young man,' says Mrs. Boone to me. + +"We ain't more'n got started when the dame lets out a holler. + +"'Orphy!' she yells, 'Stop! Wait a minute! Whoa!' Orphy comes 'n' +yanks off the trolley. + +"'I declare to goodness!' says Mrs. Boone. 'I've furgot my rubbers. +Run up and get them for me, Orphy--they're behind the door in the front +hall.' + +"'I'd like to oblige you real well, Mrs. Boone,' says Orphy, 'but the +company don't allow me to leave the car when I'm on duty--' + +"'Well, I call lookin' after your customers bein' on duty,' says Mrs. +Boone. 'Now, you skip an' get my rubbers, Orphy Shanner!' + +"Orphy beats it fur the rubbers. + +"While he's gone Mrs. Boone goes 'n' drops a nickel down the chute, but +she don't put it in the right side 'n' it trickles down into the box. +When Orphy gets the car started after he's back, he turns 'round 'n' +gives a sad look at the nickel in the box. + +"'Stung!' says Peewee, 'n' I think he's goin' to fall off the car. + +"'What ails that young man?' says Mrs. Boone to me. 'He seems to be +havin' a spell.' + +"'It ain't nothin',' I says. 'He'll be all right in a minute.' + +"We lets Mrs. Boone off after while 'n' keeps on goin' fur a mile or so +till we come to some gates. In gold letters over the gates is 'Ohio's +Beauty Spot,' 'n' below that in bigger letters yet is 'Lake Minnehaha +Park.' We goes through these gates 'n' there's the track. More'n half +the center-field is took up by a baseball diamond. In the other half +is a pond with a shoot-the-chutes runnin' down into it. + +"'Where's the lake?' Peewee says to Orphy. + +"'Right in front of your nose,' says Orphy, pointin' at the pond. + +"'She's some body of water,' says Peewee. 'If you ain't careful a big +rough guy'll come along here with a tin cup some dark night 'n' go +south with her.' + +"'I guess not,' says Orphy. 'She's four feet deep--in spots.' + +"When we come in sight of the stalls, there's Butsy standin' in the +rain with the hosses. A big bunch of Jaspers is holdin' a meetin' out +in front of a row of bran'-new stalls that's just been put up. There's +a hot argument goin' on 'n' they don't pay no attention to the rain. + +"'You gone dippy?' I says to Butsy. 'What are you standin' out in the +rain with the dogs fur? Why don't you put 'em up?' + +"'No chance,' says Butsy. 'All the stalls is took except these new +ones, 'n' the guy who furnished the lumber fur 'em won't unlock 'em +till he's paid.' + +"I looks at the stalls--there's a great big padlock on each door. + +"'Why don't they slip him the coin?' I says. + +"'You can search me,' says Butsy. 'That's what they're chewin' the rag +about now.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee slides over to where the crowd is. + +"'I'll have the law on ye sure!' a old Jasper is sayin'. He's got on a +long-tailed coat 'n' a white string tie. + +"'Edge right in!' whispers Peewee to me. 'It ain't goin' to cost you a +cent!' + +"'You ain't got no right to lock them stalls, Jim Burns!' says the old +Jasper. 'They belong to the Knox County Agricultural Society!' + +"'Not till I'm paid fer the lumber, they don't!' says the guy he calls +Jim Burns. 'Gimme eighty-six dollars, Kurnel, if you want to use them +stalls.' + +"'I'll have the law on ye sure as my name's Hunter!' says the old +Jasper. + +"'I guess you won't,' says Burns. 'My lawyer tells me to lock them +stalls.' + +"'Who's your lawyer?' says the old Jasper. + +"Harry Evans," says Burns. + +"'Well, why ain't he here?' says the old Jasper. + +"'That's right--he'd ought to be here!' says several in the crowd. + +"'I told him to come two hours ago,' says Burns. 'Say, Orphy! +Telephone in an' find out why Harry ain't here!' + +"Orphy climbs off the car 'n' goes in a shed 'n' we hears the telephone +bell jingle. Pretty soon he comes back. + +"'Missus Evans says Harry's fixin' a clock,' says Orphy. 'He's purty +nigh through, an' he aims to git out here soon as she'll strike right. +He's comin' in his autymobile.' + +"The crowd gives a groan. Burns throws up his hands. + +"'He'd a damn sight better walk,' he says. + +"The argument sort-a dies down while they're waitin' fur this Harry +Evans. + +"'Come on!' Peewee says to me. 'I got to tell Butsy the good news.' + +"I see the rain tricklin' off Butsy's nose when we get close to him. + +"'Stay with it, Butsy!' says Peewee. 'They got a lawyer comin' in a +auto--' + +"'Come 'n' hold these dogs fur a while!' says Butsy. + +"'I'd like to,' says Peewee, 'but I can't. I might miss somethin',' +'n' he goes back to where the crowd is. + +"We waits fur about a hour. + +"'Why don't ye git a lawyer that ain't got no autymobile?' says +somebody to Burns. + +"'They've all got 'em,' says Burns. 'I'll give ye a dollar fer every +lawyer in Mount Clinton ye can name who ain't got one of the blame +things!' + +"'How about Sam Koons?' says somebody. + +"'Got one just the other day,' says Burns. 'It's made up to Bucyrus. +It's called the Speeding Queen. He give three hundred and twenty +dollars cash fer it.' + +"Not long after that I begins to notice a noise. It ain't like any +other sound I ever hears before. It gets right into my system. It's +gettin' closer 'n' pretty soon I think I'll go find a nail 'n' bite on +it. + +"'What's that?' says Peewee. + +"'It's him,' says Burns. 'It's Harry. If he don't have no bad luck +he'll be here in twenty minutes. He ain't over a half a mile away +right now.' + +"'I hope they ain't no children on the road,' says Peewee. + +"I figgers this Harry Evans is sure ridin' a threshin'-machine with its +insides loose, but when he comes through the gates I gets a shock. +Say,--his machine ain't much bigger'n a good-sized sardine can! It's +painted red 'n' smoke's comin' out of the front of it. I can roll +faster'n it's movin', but it keeps a-shakin' so he can't hardly set in +the seat. + +"When it's pretty close I see he's a little guy with specs 'n' a yellow +coat on, but he's bein' shook so I can't hardly see what he does look +like. + +"'How-dee-do!' he says, when he gets her stopped. 'Er,--it occurs to +me that I may be a little late. . . . Will any of you gentlemen +indulge in a Cuban Beauty?' He fishes some long black stogies out of +his pocket, but they don't nobody go against 'em, except him--he lights +one. + +"Then the crowd shows him the locked stalls 'n' everybody takes a shot +at tellin' him what ought to be did. + +"'Er,--it occurs to me,' says this Harry Evans, 'that there is a simple +way out of the--er--difficulty.' + +"'There's class to him,' says Peewee. + +"'How's that?' says some one in the crowd. + +"'If Colonel Hunter here will tender me--er--eighty-six dollars in +behalf of my client,' says Harry Evans, 'I'll instruct my client to +unlock the stalls.' + +"'There you are!' says Peewee. + +"The big Jasper lets out a fierce roar. + +"'Not by a damn sight!' says he. 'We leased these grounds with the +full use an' privilege of all buildin's an' other fixtures an' +appurtenances fur the purpose of holdin' a fair. We weren't aimin' to +get skinned out of eighty-six dollars by no lumber concern, 'n' we +ain't a-goin' to neither!' + +"'Let's see your lease?' says Harry Evans. + +"'It's back in town at my office,' says the old Jasper. + +"'Who signed it?' says Harry Evans. + +"'Judge Tate signed it,' says the old Jasper. + +"'Er,--if that's the case,' says Harry Evans, 'get him out here. He's +receiver for the Park Company and you can make him pay this claim.' + +"The whole bunch says that's a good idea. So they tell Orphy to go in +'n' get this Judge Tate. + +"'I got to go 'n' tell Butsy there's a judge comin'!' says Peewee. + +"'Butsy's sore about somethin',' he says when he gets back. + +"This Judge Tate unloads hisself from the car when Orphy brings him, +like he's the most important piece of work fur miles around. He has +little side-whiskers 'n' a bay-window with a big gold chain stretched +across it. He holds a umbrella over hisself with one hand 'n' wiggles +the watch-chain with the other. + +"'Ahem--gentlemen, what can I do for you?' he says. + +"'Something doing now!' says Peewee to me. 'This is God-a'mighty's +right-hand man!' + +"'Er--Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'we are having a dispute concerning +certain buildings on these premises, and--er--it occurred to me you +could settle the matter.' + +"'Settle is the word,' says Peewee to me. + +"'As receiver for the Park Company, Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'can you +tell us--er--who the buildings on these premises belong to?' + +"'Why--ahem--' says the judge, 'it is my understanding that all the +buildings of every sort and description belong to the Park Company, +irrespective of any improvements that the--ahem--lessees may see fit to +make.' + +"'Now yer talkin',' says Burns. 'Just hand me eighty-six dollars due +fer lumber on them new stalls--you claim to own em. + +"'A-he-m!' says the judge. 'That's a different matter. The +Agricultural Society is responsible for those stalls. The man you +should see about your claim is Alf Dingle. I happen to know there is a +certain sum of money in the treasury and I kind of think Alf will pay +this claim. Why don't you try to get him to come out here?' + +"They argue a while 'n' then it's thought best to send fur Alf Dingle. +But Orphy has took the street-car 'n' went. + +"'That's the way it goes,' says the old Jasper they call colonel. +'He's a-chasin' around town with that car instead of stayin' here +tendin' to his business!' + +"'I'll go in and get Alf,' says Harry Evans, startin' fur his machine. + +"Nobody says nothin'. + +"'I ain't got the heart to tell Butsy,' says Peewee. + +"Harry Evans begins to turn the handle on his machine. He turns it fur +ten minutes. When he's all in, he straightens up. + +"'Somebody'll have to help me crank her,' he says. + +"The crowd goes to work. They all take turns. But she don't start. + +"'Er--it occurs to me there may be something wrong with her,' says +Harry Evans, 'n' starts to lift off the cover where the machinery is. +Peewee gives me a poke in the ribs. + +"'I expect he's right,' he says. + +"'I'm gettin' all-fired tired of this putterin' around,' says the old +Jasper. 'Tom', he says to a guy in overalls, 'get a crowbar an' knock +them padlocks off.' + +"'If you do that I'll put ye in jail!' yells Burns. 'That's a criminal +act! It's destruction of property with burglarious intent! Ain't it, +Harry?' + +"Harry comes up out of the machinery. There's grease even on his specs. + +"'It's the carbureter,' he says. + +"'I'll leave it to the judge!' hollers Burns. 'Ain't that a criminal +act?' + +"'A--hem!' says the judge, 'I am not prepared to say you have the right +to those stalls, but I wouldn't advise breaking a lock. As you say, +it's a criminal act.' + +"Just then here comes Orphy rollin' through the gates. + +"'You hustle in an' git Alf Dingle!' says the old Jasper to him. 'An' +when you git back, you stay here where you're needed!' + +"The crowd has moved 'round back of the stalls to watch Harry Evans +work on his machine. I stands with 'em fur a while, but Peewee has +left. All of a sudden I see him poke his head 'round the end of the +new stalls 'n' give me the high sign. + +"'What you standin' out in the rain fur?' he says, when I gets near him. + +"'What else can I do?' I says. + +"'Come on 'n' I'll show you,' says Peewee. + +"He leads me round in front of the stalls. In two of 'em is the hosses +all bedded down nice. Butsy is settin' in the stall with his stud. He +makes a puddle wherever he sets. + +"'How did you get 'em open?' I says. + +"'They ain't locked,' says Peewee. 'None of 'em are. The padlocks is +closed, _but not locked_.' + +"_No_,' I says. + +"'It's the truth!' says Peewee, 'n' we rolls in the straw a-holdin' to +each other till I feel like I'd been stepped on by a draft hoss. + +"Butsy gets up. + +"'Just one more snicker out of either of you,' he says, ''n' I lead my +hoss to the depot!' + +"I see he means it 'n' I gets my head down in the straw 'n' holds my +breath. Butsy stands there a-lookin' at us. + +"'Has Alf come yet?' says Peewee, but he don't look at me. + +"'Not yet, but he's expected,' I says, 'n' Peewee sticks his head down +in the straw 'n' makes a noise like Harry Evans' machine. I does the +same. + +"As soon as I can see again, there's Butsy leadin' his hoss fur the +gate. + +"'Now you've done it,' I says to Peewee. + +"Peewee sets up 'n' takes a look. + +"'Hi, Butsy!' he yells, 'come on back here! We weren't laughin' at +you!' + +"But Butsy keeps right on a-goin'." + + + + +THE BIG TRAIN + +The moon had acted as a stimulant to my thoughts, and the contented +munching sound as the "string" of horses consumed their hay was not +sedative enough to calm my utter wide-awake-ness. + +"Why have you put bars across the door of that stall?" I asked Blister +Jones, trying to rouse him from his placid mood. He pulled a straw +from the bale upon which we sat, before replying. + +"The Big Train's in there," he said quietly. + +"No; is that a fact?" I cried, as I jumped to my feet and walked to the +door across which were the heavy wooden bars that had attracted my +attention. Peering through these I could see nothing, nor was there +any sound toward which I might have strained my eyes. + +"I guess he's not at home," I said. "I can't see him." + +"Stick around that door 'n' you'll see him all right!" Blister assured +me. Scarcely had he finished when the straw rustled and a huge head +shot forward into the planes of moonlight that slanted between the bars +into the black mystery of the stall. + +Never had I seen anything so malevolent as this head. Its eyes were +green flame, holding the hate of hell in their depths. The mouth was +open, and the great white teeth closed with a snap on one of the bars +and shook it in its socket. + +So this was the noted man-killer, nicknamed because of his size and his +astonishing ability to carry weight--The Big Train! His fame had been +borne by leaded column beyond the racing, and to the more general +public; for on several occasions he had succeeded in furnishing the +yellow newspapers with gory copy. + +He had begun his career as a man-killer in his three-year-old form. An +unscrupulous owner had directed the jockey to carry an electric battery +during an important race. Under the current The Big Train had run like +a wild thing, and despite a staggering load placed on him by the +handicapper, had won by many lengths. + +After the race the stallion had reached back, and getting the jockey's +leg between his teeth, had torn him from the saddle. Then before a +screaming, horror-stricken grand-stand he had stamped the boy into a +red waste. + +This was his first and last public atrocity. He had killed men since, +but always when they were alone with him. No one had seen him at his +murders. He would have been destroyed when his racing days were over, +but he possessed the ability to transmit a large measure of his stamina +and speed to his offspring, and was greatly in demand as a sire. + +I stood before The Big Train's stall, fascinated by his wicked attempts +to get at me until Blister's attention was attracted by the thud of the +stallion's hoofs against the lower door. + +"Come on back here 'n' set down 'n' let that hoss get his rest,' he +ordered. I obeyed. + +"Why on earth did you take him?" I asked, when once more seated on the +bale of straw. + +"Well, ole Prindle says he'd give fifty bucks a week to the guy who'll +handle him 'n' I needs the money . . . fur certain reasons." + +"Fur certain reasons" was added diffidently, I thought. This was an +altogether new quality in Blister. And I remembered the pretty, +spoiled-looking, young girl I had seen with him quite often of late. +She was rosy, pouty, slim, enticing and thoroughly aware of how +desirable she appeared. Blister had told me she was his landlady's +daughter, and I knew she lived but a block from the race track. I +thought of the head I had seen, and felt certain that fifty _thousand_ +a week would not tempt me into an intimate relationship with its owner. + +"I can't tell you how sorry I am you've taken him--it's a fearful +risk," I said. + +"Get out!" said Blister. "He won't even muss my hair. I never go in +to him alone 'n' he don't like company fur his little stunts. He's a +regular family hoss in a crowd." + +Two stable-boys now climbed the track fence and came toward us rather +hastily. + +"Been on a vacation?" was Blister's greeting to them. + +"Playin' seven-up 'n' tried to finish the game," one of them explained +as they started with buckets for the pump. + +"That's good. It don't matter whether these hosses get watered, just +so you swipes enjoy yourselves," Blister commented. + +I watched languidly while the buckets were filled and brought to the +horses, until this process reached the barred stall. Then I became +interested. One of the boys approached the stall with a bucket in one +hand and a pitchfork held near the pronged end in the other. He swung +open the lower door and whacked the fork handle back and forth inside, +yelling harsh commands in the meantime. He succeeded in getting the +bucket where the horse could drink, but the pitchfork was seized and +twisted and the boy had difficulty in wrenching it away. It was all he +could do to regain possession of it. + +"Little pink toes is feelin' like his ole sweet self again," said +Blister. "I been worried about him--he's seemed so pie-faced here +lately." + +"Don't worry none about him," said the boy who had watered The Big +Train. "Mama's lamb ain't forgot his cute ways." Then he addressed +the other boy. "Say, Chic, you snored somethin' fierce last night! +Why don't you sleep in here with Bright Eyes, so's not to disturb me?" + +"Would, only I might thrash around in my sleep 'n' hurt him," promptly +replied the other boy. + +Two figures had come from the street, through the gate and strolled +down the line of stalls. One of them was feminine, and in white, and +as they drew nearer, "Good evening, Mister Jones," floated to us in an +assured though girlish voice. + +It was the landlady's daughter, attended by a cavalier in the person of +a stolid young man of German extraction, as I thought at first glance, +and this was confirmed by Blister's, "Let me make you acquainted with +Miss Malloy," and "Shake hands with Mister Shultz." + +Then began the by no means unskilful playing of one lover against the +other. She sat, a queen--the bale of straw a throne--and dispensed +royal favors impartially; a dimple melting to a smile, a frown changed +by feminine magic into a delicious pout. + +In the moonlight she was exceedingly lovely. She seemed +unapproachable, elusive, mysterious, and yet her art touched the +material. She contrived to bring out how successful Mister Shultz was +in the bakery business, and in the next breath told nonchalantly of the +vast sums acquired by a race-horse trainer. + +She appealed to Blister to corroborate this. + +"Isn't that so, Mister Jones? Didn't you tell me you get fifty dollars +a week for training one horse?" + +Blister was not above impressing his rival, it seemed. He nodded to +this deceptive question. And since he had nine horses in his "string," +the worthy German's eyes bulged. + +At last I rose to go and our little circle broke up. The girl, with a +coquettish good night to me, moved away from us and stood with her back +to the stalls, her face lifted to the moon. + +"Good night, ole Four Eyes!" said Blister, and gave my hand a friendly +pressure, just as a rattling sound attracted my eyes to the barred +stall. + +The lower door was swinging open. A powerful neck had tossed the bars +from their sockets. This was the rattle I had heard, as Death came out +of that stall, huge and terrible, to rear above the unconscious white +figure in the moonlight. + +My look of horror swung Blister about. I saw him dive headlong, and +the white figure was knocked to safety as the man-killer's forefeet +struck Blister down. + +The rest was a dream . . . I found myself beating with futile fists the +giant body that rose and fell as it stamped upon that other body +beneath. I knew, but dimly, that the night was pierced by shriek on +shriek. And still I felt the rise and fall of the beast. How long it +lasted I do not know. . . . . . . + +A helmeted figure swept me aside, I saw a gleam in the moonlight--a +flash, and felt that a shot was fired, although I can not remember +hearing it. The Big Train ceased to rise and fall. He swayed, +staggered and crumpled to the ground. + +"An ambulance--quick!" I said to the heaven-sent policeman; and saw him +start for the gate on a lumbering trot. Then I stooped to the figure, +lying with its head in what the moonlight had changed to a pool of ink. + +Suddenly I felt a woman's soft form beneath my hands. It was in white +and it covered that other dreadful figure with its own . . . and moaned. + +"This won't do," I said to the girl. "Let me see how badly he's hurt." + +She took Blister's head in her arms. + +"Go 'way from here! He's dead," she said. "He saved me . . . he's +mine! Go 'way from here!" + +A crowd was forming. I sent a stableboy for a blanket, put it under +Blister's head, despite the girl's protests, and pulled her roughly to +her feet. + +"Go over to that bale and sit down!" I ordered, giving her a shake; and +to my surprise she obeyed. "Sit with her!" I said to the German, and I +heard her repeat, "Go 'way from here!" as he approached. . . . + +The ambulance clanged through the gate. The young surgeon put his ear +to Blister's heart, picked the limp body up unaided and placed it in +the somber-looking vehicle. + +"Beat it, Max!" he said to the driver. + +"What hospital?" I called after him. + +"Saint Luke's!" he shouted, as they gathered speed. + +"You had better take her home now," I suggested to Mr. Shultz. "I am +going to the hospital." + +"So am I," said the girl. "Tell mother," she directed at the German, +as she started for the gate. + +"You'd better not go," I remonstrated. "I'll let you know everything +as soon as I hear." + +She paid not the slightest attention. When we reached the street she +stopped on the wrong corner waiting for a car that would have taken her +away from, instead of toward, the hospital. + +"You can't go down-town like this!" I said, making a last effort. +"Look at your dress!" and I pointed to the front of her gown--a bright +crimson under the electric light. + +She looked down at herself and shuddered. + +"I'll go if it's the last thing I do," she said. "You can save your +breath." + +The car was all but empty. The girl sat staring, dry-eyed, straight +before her. A dirty old woman, seeing the set face and blood-stained +dress, leaned eagerly across the aisle. + +"Has the young lady been hurt?" she wheezed. + +"None of your business," said Miss Malloy. And the old woman subsided +at this shaft of plain truth. + +Our ride was half completed when my companion began to speak, in a +broken monotone. She addressed no one in particular. If was as though +conscience spoke through unconscious lips. + +"And I've been foolin' with him just like all the rest--I thought it +was smart! I never knew, for sure, till back there, and now _he'll_ +never know . . . he'll not hear me when I tell it to him." Suddenly +the monotone grew shrill. "_He'll never hear nothing of what Eve found +out_!" + +"Quiet! Quiet!" I said, and took her hand. "He's only hurt. The +doctors will bring him around all right." + +"No," she said. "I've been foolin' with him. I've been wicked and +mean, and it's been sent to punish me." + +A house surgeon and the engulfing odor of iodoform met us at the door +of the emergency ward, whither we were led by a nurse. + +"We can't tell anything before tomorrow," answered the surgeon to my +question. "The pulse is fairly strong, and that means hope." + +"I must see him," the girl stated. + +"Sorry," said the surgeon, shaking his head. "No visitors allowed in +this ward at night." + +Two eyes, big and dark and beseeching, were raised to his. They shone +from the white face and plead with him. + +"Oh, doctor . . . _please_!" was all she said, but the eyes won her +battle. + +The nurse joined forces with the eyes. She looked past the surgeon. + +"Very few in here to-night, Doctor Brandt," she urged. + +"I wonder what would become of hospital rules if we left it to you +nurses!" he protested, as he stepped aside and gently drew the girl +within. + +Down the dim aisle between the snowy beds we went, until the surgeon +stopped at one, beside which sat a nurse, her fingers on the wrist of +the bandaged occupant. + +One bloodless hand picked feebly at the covering. The girl took this +in both her own and pressed it to her cheek. Then stooping even lower, +she cooed to the head on the pillow. + +"The Big Train's pulled in . . ." muttered a far voice from between the +bandages. + +"Railroad man--isn't he?" inquired the surgeon of me. + +"No. A horseman," I replied. + +"He talks about trains. Was it a railroad accident?" + +"He was injured by a horse called The Big Train," I explained. + +"Oh--that one," he said, enlightened. + +"Why don't they shoot him?" + +"They did," I said. + +"Good!" exclaimed the surgeon. "That is fine!" + +After taking the girl to her home, I sent telegrams to "Mr. Van," as I +had heard Blister call him--one to Morrisville, New Jersey, and one to +the Union Club, New York. Judge and Mrs. Dillon were abroad. + +When I had telephoned to the hospital the next morning, I went to the +office and found a message on my desk. It read: + +"Have everything possible done. Send all bills to me. He must come +here to convalesce." + + +It was headed Morrisville, and was signed, "W. D. Van Voast." + +That same day Blister was taken to a big, airy, private room with two +nurses in attendance. + +For a time it seemed hopeless. And then the fates decided to spare +that valiant whimsical spirit and Death drew slowly back. The stallion +had been unshod, and to this and the semi-darkness Blister owed his +life. + +I had met the girl frequently at the hospital and at last they told us +we could see Blister for a moment the next day. Ten o'clock was the +time set and as we sat in the visitor's room together, waiting, she +seemed worried. + +"You should be more cheerful," I said. "The danger is past, or we +would not be allowed to see him." + +"It isn't that," she replied. "I used to like horses. Now every horse +I see scares me to death." Then she hesitated and looked at me timidly. + +"Well," I encouraged, "that's natural, what of it?" + +"I've been thinking--" she said slowly, "every girl should like what +her husb--" she stopped and blushed till she looked like a rose in +confusion. + +"Oh, I see what you mean," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Since you +care for Blister, you feel that you should also be interested in his +profession." + +"That's it! You say things just right!" she exclaimed gratefully. + +"You will get over this dread of horses," I assured her. "Because +there are murderers in the world you do not fear all men. Occasionally +there are bad horses, just as there are bad people. You shouldn't +judge all the splendid faithful creatures who spend their lives serving +us, by one vicious brute." + +"Oh, I know that!" she said. "And I'll try as hard as ever I can to +get over it." + +"This is quite a little woman . . . she has developed," I thought. + +An unknown Blister with strange cavernous eyes, lay in the room to +which we were presently taken. I stood at the foot of the bed, +directly in his line of vision, but he did not seem to recognize me. +He looked through and beyond me. At last-- + +"Hello, Four Eyes!" came feebly from him. Slowly he became conscious +of the girl's face, looking down into his own. "You here, too?" he +questioned. + +"Yes, dear," she said tremblingly. + +The sight of the poor sick face was too much for her and she knelt +hastily to hide the tears. Then the round curve of her young bosom was +indented by his wasted shoulder as she bent and kissed him on the mouth. + +A woeful scar across his cheek reddened against the white skin. A +flash of the old Blister appeared in the hollow eyes. + +"There's class to that!" he said. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + +***** This file should be named 19041-8.txt or 19041-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/4/19041/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/19041-8.zip b/19041-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98fa3fd --- /dev/null +++ b/19041-8.zip diff --git a/19041-h.zip b/19041-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9132b1f --- /dev/null +++ b/19041-h.zip diff --git a/19041-h/19041-h.htm b/19041-h/19041-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..719973e --- /dev/null +++ b/19041-h/19041-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11093 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +Blister Jones +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: medium; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {font-size: small } + +p.dedication {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 15%; + text-align: justify } + + + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blister Jones + +Author: John Taintor Foote + +Illustrator: Jay Hambridge + +Release Date: August 14, 2006 [EBook #19041] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT=""Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against Hamilton."" BORDER="2" WIDTH="404" HEIGHT="576"> +<H3> +[Frontispiece: "Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against Hamilton."] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +BLISTER JONES +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN TAINTOR FOOTE +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATED BY +<BR> +JAY HAMBIDGE +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +INDIANAPOLIS +<BR> +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY +<BR> +PUBLISHERS +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +COPYRIGHT 1913 +<BR> +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="dedication"> +I dedicate this, my first book, with awe and <BR> +the deepest affection, to Mulvaney—Mowgil—Kim, <BR> +and all the wonderful rest of them. +<BR><BR> +J. T. F. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P> +A certain magazine, that shall be nameless, I read every month. Not +because its pale contents, largely furnished by worthy ladies, contain +many red corpuscles, but because as a child I saw its numbers lying +upon the table in the "library," as much a part of that table as the +big vase lamp that glowed above it. +</P> + +<P> +My father and mother read the magazine with much enjoyment, for, +doubtless, when its editor was young, the precious prose and poetry of +Araminta Perkins and her ilk satisfied him not at all. +</P> + +<P> +Therefore, in memory of days that will never come again, I read this +old favorite; sometimes—I must confess it—with pain. +</P> + +<P> +It chanced that a story about horses—aye, race horses—was approved +and sanctified by the august editor. +</P> + +<P> +This story, when I found it sandwiched between <I>Jane Somebody's +Impressions Upon Seeing an Italian Hedge</I>, and three verses entitled +<I>Resurgam</I>, or something like that, I straightway bore to "Blister" +Jones, horse-trainer by profession and gentleman by instinct. +</P> + +<P> +"What that guy don't know about a hoss would fill a book," was his +comment after I had read him the story. +</P> + +<P> +I rather agreed with this opinion and so—here is the book. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P> +THE THOROUGHBRED<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lead him away!--his day is done,<BR> + His satin coat and velvet eye<BR> +Are dimmed as moonlight in the sun<BR> + Is lost upon the sky.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lead him away!--his rival stands<BR> + A calf of shiny gold;<BR> +His masters kneel with lifted hands<BR> + To this base thing and bold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lead him away!--far down the past,<BR> + Where sentiment has fled;<BR> +But, gentlemen, just at the last,<BR> + Drink deep!--_the thoroughbred_!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">Blister</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">Two Ringers</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">Wanted--a Rainbow</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">Salvation</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">A Tip in Time</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">Très Jolie</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">Ole Man Sanford</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">Class</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">Exit Butsy</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">The Big Train</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATIONS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-front"> +"Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against<BR> +Hamilton" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-204"> +"Très Jolie!" he shrieked. +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-258"> +"I see the Elefant stamp him." +</A> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +BLISTER JONES +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BLISTER +</H3> + +<P> +How my old-young friend "Blister" Jones acquired his remarkable +nickname, I learned one cloudless morning late in June. +</P> + +<P> +Our chairs were tipped against number 84 in the curving line of +box-stalls at Latonia. Down the sweep of whitewashed stalls the upper +doors were yawning wide, and from many of these openings, velvet black +in the sunlight, sleek snaky heads protruded. +</P> + +<P> +My head rested in the center of the lower door of 84. From time to +time a warm moist breath, accompanied by a gigantic sigh, would play +against the back of my neck; or my hat would be pushed a bit farther +over my eyes by a wrinkling muzzle—for Tambourine, gazing out into the +green of the center-field, felt a vague longing and wished to tell me +about it. +</P> + +<P> +The track, a broad tawny ribbon with a lace-work edging of white fence, +was before us; the "upper-turn" with its striped five-eighths pole, not +fifty feet away. Some men came and set up the starting device at this +red and white pole, and I asked Blister to explain to me just what it +meant. +</P> + +<P> +"Goin' to school two-year-olds at the barrier," he explained. And +presently—mincing, sidling, making futile leaps to get away, the boys +on their backs standing clear above them in the short stirrups—a band +of deer-like young thoroughbreds assembled, thirty feet or so from the +barrier. +</P> + +<P> +Then there was trouble. Those sweet young things performed, with the +rapidity of thought, every lawless act known to the equine brain. They +reared. They plunged. They bucked. They spun. They surged together. +They scattered like startled quail. I heard squeals, and saw vicious +shiny hoofs lash out in every direction; and the dust spun a yellow +haze over it all. +</P> + +<P> +"Those jockeys will be killed!" I gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"Jockeys!" exclaimed Blister contemptuously. "Them ain't +jockeys—they're exercise-boys. Do you think a jock would school a +two-year-old?" +</P> + +<P> +A man, who Blister said was a trainer, stood on the fence and acted as +starter. Language came from this person in volcanic blasts, and the +seething mass, where infant education was brewing, boiled and boiled +again. +</P> + +<P> +"That bay filly's a nice-lookin' trick, Four Eyes!" said Blister, +pointing out a two-year-old standing somewhat apart from the rest. +"She's by Hamilton 'n' her dam's Alberta, by Seminole." +</P> + +<P> +The bay filly, I soon observed, had more than beauty—she was so +obviously the outcome of a splendid and selected ancestry. Even her +manners were aristocratic. She faced the barrier with quiet dignity +and took no part in the whirling riot except to move disdainfully aside +when it threatened to engulf her. I turned to Blister and found him +gazing at the filly with a far-away look in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Ole Alberta was a grand mare," he said presently. "I see her get away +last in the Crescent City Derby 'n' be ten len'ths back at the quarter. +But she come from nowhere, collared ole Stonebrook in the stretch, +looked him in the eye the last eighth 'n' outgamed him at the wire. +She has a hundred 'n' thirty pounds up at that. +</P> + +<P> +"Ole Alberta dies when she has this filly," he went on after a pause. +"Judge Dillon, over near Lexington, owned her, 'n' Mrs. Dillon brings +the filly up on the bottle. See how nice that filly stands? Handled +every day since she was foaled, 'n' never had a cross word. Sugar +every mawnin' from Mrs. Dillon. That's way to learn a colt somethin'." +</P> + +<P> +At last the colts were formed into a disorderly line. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, boys, you've got a chance—come on with 'em!" bellowed the +starter. "Not too fast …" he cautioned. "Awl-r-r-right … let +'em go-o-!" +</P> + +<P> +They were off like rockets as the barrier shot up, and the bay filly +flashed into the lead. Her slender legs seemed to bear her as though +on the breast of the wind. She did not run—she floated—yet the gap +between herself and her struggling schoolmates grew ever wider. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you Alberta!" breathed Blister. Then his tone changed. "Most of +these wise Ikes talk about the sire of a colt, but I'll take a good dam +all the time for mine!" +</P> + +<P> +Standing on my chair, I watched the colts finish their run, the filly +well in front. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a wonder!" I exclaimed, resuming my seat. +</P> + +<P> +"She acts like she'll deliver the goods," Blister conceded. "She's got +a lot of step, but it takes more'n that to make a race hoss. We'll +know about <I>her</I> when she goes the route, carryin' weight against +class." +</P> + +<P> +The colts were now being led to their quarters by stable-boys. When +the boy leading the winner passed, he threw us a triumphant smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess she's bad!" he opined. +</P> + +<P> +"Some baby," Blister admitted. Then with disgust: "They've hung a +fierce name on her though." +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't it the truth!" agreed the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"What <I>is</I> her name?" I asked, when the pair had gone by. +</P> + +<P> +"They call her Trez Jolly," said Blister. "Now, ain't that a hell of a +name? I like a name you can kind-a warble." He had pronounced the +French phrase exactly as it is written, with an effort at the "J" +following the sibilant. +</P> + +<P> +"Très Jolie—it's French," I explained, and gave him the meaning and +proper pronunciation. +</P> + +<P> +"Traysyolee!" he repeated after me. "Say, I'm a rube right. +Tra-aysyole-e in the stretch byano-o-se!" he intoned with gusto. "You +can warble that!" he exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think much of Blister—for beauty," I said. "Of course, that +isn't your real name." +</P> + +<P> +"No; I had another once," he replied evasively. "But I never hears it +much. The old woman calls me 'thatdambrat,' 'n' the old man the same, +only more so. I gets Blister handed to me by the bunch one winter at +the New Awlin' meetin'." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait till I get the makin's 'n' I'll tell you," he said, as he got up +and entered a stall. +</P> + +<P> +"One winter I'm swipin' fur Jameson," he began, when he returned with +tobacco and papers. "We ships to New Awlins early that fall. We have +twelve dogs—half of 'em hop-heads 'n' the other half dinks. +</P> + +<P> +"In them days I ain't much bigger 'n a peanut, but I sure thinks I'm a +clever guy. I figger they ain't a gazabo on the track can hand it to +me. +</P> + +<P> +"One mawnin' there's a bunch of us ginnies settin' on the fence at the +wire, watchin' the work-outs. Some trainers 'n' owners is standin' on +the track rag-chewin'. +</P> + +<P> +"A bird owned by Cal Davis is finishin' a mile-'n'-a-quarter, under +wraps, in scan'lous fast time. Cal is standin' at the finish with his +clock in his hand lookin' real contented. All of a sudden the bird +makes a stagger, goes to his knees 'n' chucks the boy over his head. +His swipe runs out 'n' grabs the bird 'n' leads him in a-limpin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Say! That bird's right-front tendon is bowed like a barrel stave! +</P> + +<P> +"This Cal Davis is a big owner. He's got all kinds of kale—'n' he +don't fool with dinks. He gives one look at the bowed tendon. +</P> + +<P> +"'Anybody that'll lead this hoss off the track, gets him 'n' a month's +feed,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Before you could spit I has that bird by the head. His swipe ain't +goin' to let go of him, but Cal says: 'Turn him loose, boy!' 'N' I'm +on my way with the bird. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the first one I ever owns. Jameson loans me a stall fur him. +That night a ginnie comes over from Cal's barn with two bags of oats in +a wheelbarrow. +</P> + +<P> +"A newspaper guy finds out about the deal, 'n' writes it up so +everybody is hep to me playin' owner. One day I see the starter point +me out to Colonel King, who's the main squeeze in the judge's stand, +'n' they both laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got all winter before we has to ship, 'n' believe me I sweat some +over this bird. I done everythin' to that tendon, except make a new +one. In a month I has it in such shape he don't limp, 'n' I begins to +stick mile gallops 'n' short breezers into him. He has to wear a stiff +bandage on the dinky leg, 'n' I puts one on the left-fore, too—it +looks better. +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't so long till I has this bird cherry ripe. He'll take a-holt +awful strong right at the end of a stiff mile. One day I turns him +loose, fur three-eighths, 'n' he runs it so fast he makes me dizzy. +</P> + +<P> +"I know he's good, but I wants to know <I>how</I> good, before I pays +entrance on him. I don't want the clockers to get wise to him, neither! +</P> + +<P> +"Joe Nickel's the star jock that year. I've seen many a good boy on a +hoss, but I think Joe's the best judge of pace I ever see. One day +he's comin' from the weighin'-room, still in his silks. His valet's +with him carryin' the saddle. I steps up 'n' says: +</P> + +<P> +"'Kin I see you private a minute, Joe?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure thing, kid,' he says. 'N' the valet skidoos. +</P> + +<P> +"'Joe,' I says, 'I've got a bird that's right. I don't know just how +good he is, but he's awful good. I want to get wise to him before I +crowds my dough on to the 'Sociation. Will you give him a work?' +</P> + +<P> +"It takes an awful nerve to ask a jock like Nickel to work a hoss out, +but he's the only one can judge pace good enough to put me wise, 'n' +I'm desperate. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's that Davis cripple, ain't it?' he asks. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"He studies a minute, lookin' steady at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm your huckleberry,' he says at last. 'When do you want me?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Just as she gets light to-morrow mawnin',' I says quick, fur I hasn't +believed he'd come through, 'n' I wants to stick the gaff into him +'fore he changes his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"He give a sigh. I knowed he was no early riser. +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' he says. 'Where'll you be?' +</P> + +<P> +"'At the half-mile post,' I says. 'I'll have him warmed up fur you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' he says again—'n' that night I don't sleep none. +</P> + +<P> +"When it begins to get a little gray next mawnin' I takes the bird out +'n' gallops him a slow mile with a stiff breezer at the end. But +durin' the night I gives up thinkin' Joe'll be there, 'n' I nearly +falls off when I comes past the half-mile post, 'n' he's standin' by +the fence in a classy overcoat 'n' kid gloves. +</P> + +<P> +"He takes off his overcoat, 'n' comes up when I gets down,'n' gives a +look at the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"'I can't ride nothin' on that thing,' he says. 'Slip over to the +jocks' room 'n' get mine. It's on number three peg—here's the key.' +</P> + +<P> +"It's gettin' light fast 'n' I'm afraid of the clockers. +</P> + +<P> +"'The sharp-shooters'll be out in a minute,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I can't help it,' says Joe. 'I wouldn't ride a bull on that saddle!' +</P> + +<P> +"I see there's no use to argue, so I beats it across the center-field, +cops the saddle 'n' comes back. I run all the way, but it's gettin' +awful light. +</P> + +<P> +"'Send him a mile in forty-five 'n' see what he's got left,' I says, as +I throws Joe up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Right in the notch—if he's got the step,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"I click Jameson's clock on them, as they went away—Joe whisperin' in +the bird's ear. The back-stretch was the stretch, startin' from the +half. I seen the bird's mouth wide open as they come home, 'n' Joe has +double wraps on him. 'He won't beat fifty under that pull!' I says to +myself. But when I stops the clock at the finish it was at +forty-four-'n'-three-quarters. Joe ain't got a clock to go by +neither—that's judgin' pace!—take it from me! +</P> + +<P> +"'He's diseased with speed,' says Joe, when he gets down. 'He can do +thirty-eight sure—just look at my hands!' +</P> + +<P> +"I does a dance a-bowin' to the bird, 'n' Joe stands there laughin' at +me, squeezin' the blood back into his mitts. +</P> + +<P> +"We leads the hoss to the gate, 'n' there's a booky's clocker named +Izzy Goldberg. +</P> + +<P> +"'You an exercise-boy now?' he asks Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not yet,' says Joe. 'Mu cousin here owns this trick, 'n' I'm givin' +him a work.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Up kind-a early, ain't you? Say! He's good, ain't he, Joe?' says +Izzy; 'n' looks at the bird close. +</P> + +<P> +"'Naw, he's a mutt,' says Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's he doin' with his mouth open at the end of that mile?' Izzy +says, 'n' laughs. +</P> + +<P> +"'He only runs it in fifty,' says Joe, careless. 'I takes hold of him +'cause he's bad in front, 'n' he's likely to do a flop when he gets +tired. So long, Bud!' Joe says to me, 'n' I takes the bird to the barn. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not thinkin' Izzy ain't wise. It's a cinch Joe don't stall him. +Every booky would hear about that work-out by noon. Sure enough the +<I>Item's</I> pink sheet has this among the tips the next day: +</P> + +<P> +"'Count Noble'—that was the bird's name—'a mile in forty-four. +Pulled to a walk at the end. Bet the works on him; his first time out, +boys!' +</P> + +<P> +"That was on a Saturday. On Monday I enters the bird among a bunch of +dogs to start in a five furlong sprint Thursday. I'm savin' every +soomarkee I gets my hands on 'n' I pays the entrance to the secretary +like it's a mere bag of shells. Joe Nickel can't ride fur me—he's +under contract. I meets him the day before my race. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're levelin' with your hoss, ain't you?' he says. 'I'll send my +valet in with you, 'n' after you get yours on, he'll bet two hundred +fur me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Nothin' doin', Joe!' I says. 'Stay away from it. I'll tell you when +I gets ready to level. You can't bet them bookies nothin'—they're +wise to him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Look-a-here, Bud!' says Joe. 'That bird'll cake-walk among them +crabs. No jock can make him lose, 'n' not get ruled off.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Leave that to me,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Just as I figgers—my hoss opens up eight-to-five in the books. +</P> + +<P> +"I gives him all the water he'll drink afore he goes to the post, 'n' I +has bandages on every leg. The paddock judge looks at them bandages, +but he knows the bird's a cripple, 'n' he don't feel 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"'Them's to hold his legs on, ain't they?' he says, 'n' grins. +</P> + +<P> +"'Surest thing you know,' I says. But I feels some easier when he's on +his way—<I>there's seven pounds of lead in each of them bandages</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want the bird whipped when he ain't got a chance. +</P> + +<P> +"'This hoss backs up if you use the bat on him,' I says to the jock, as +he's tyin' his reins. +</P> + +<P> +"'He backs up anyway, I guess,' he says, as the parade starts. +</P> + +<P> +"The bird gets away good, but I'd overdone the lead in his socks. He +finished a nasty last—thirty len'ths back. +</P> + +<P> +"'Roll over, kid!' says the jock, when I go up to slip him his fee. +'Not fur ridin' that hippo. It 'ud be buglary—he couldn't beat a +piano!' +</P> + +<P> +"I meets Colonel King comin' out of the judge's stand that evenin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'An owner's life has its trials and tribulations—eh, my boy?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, sir!' I says. That's the first time Colonel King ever speaks to +me, 'n' I swells up like a toad. 'I'm gettin' to be all the gravy +'round here,' I says to myself. +</P> + +<P> +"Two days after this they puts an overnight mile run fur maidens on the +card, 'n' I slips the bird into it. I knowed it was takin' a chance so +soon after his bad race, but it looks so soft I can't stay 'way from +it. I goes to Cal Davis, 'n' tells him to put a bet down. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, ho!' he says. 'Lendin' me a helpin' hand, are you?' Then I +tells him about Nickel. +</P> + +<P> +"'Did Joe Nickel work him out for you?' he says. 'The best is good +enough fur you, ain't it? I'll see Joe, 'n' if it looks good to him +I'll take a shot at it. Much obliged to you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't never mention it,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'How do you mean that?' he says, grinnin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Both ways,' says I. +</P> + +<P> +"The mawnin' of the race, I'm givin' the bird's bad leg a steamin', +when a black swipe named Duckfoot Johnson tells me I'm wanted on the +phone over to the secretary's office, 'n' I gets Duckfoot to go on +steamin' the leg while I'm gone. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a feed man on the phone, wantin' to know when he gets sixteen +bucks I owe him. +</P> + +<P> +"'The bird'll bring home your coin at four o'clock this afternoon,' I +tells him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, that's lucky,' he says. 'I thought it was throwed to the +birds, 'n' I didn't figure they'd bring it home again.' +</P> + +<P> +"When I gets back there's a crap game goin' on in front of the stall, +'n' Duckfoot's shootin'. There's a hot towel on the bird's leg, 'n' +it's been there too long. I takes it off 'n' feel where small blisters +has begun to raise under the hair—a little more 'n' it 'ud been clear +to the bone. I cusses Duckfoot good, 'n' rubs vaseline into the leg." +</P> + +<P> +I interrupted Blister long enough to inquire: +</P> + +<P> +"Don't they blister horses sometimes to cure them of lameness?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he replied. "But a hoss don't work none fur quite a spell +afterwards. A blister, to do any good, fixes him so he can't hardly +raise his leg fur two weeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he went on, "the race fur maidens was the last thing on the +card. I'm in the betting-ring when they chalks up the first odds, 'n' +my hoss opens at twenty-five-to-one. The two entrance moneys have +about cleaned me. I'm only twenty green men strong. I peels off ten +of 'em 'n' shoved up to a booky. +</P> + +<P> +"'On the nose fur that one,' I says, pointin' to the bird's name. +</P> + +<P> +"'Quit your kiddin',' he says. 'What 'ud you do with all that money? +This fur yours.' 'N' he rubs to twelve-to-one. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ain't you the liberal gink?' I says, as he hands me the ticket. +</P> + +<P> +"'I starts fur the next book, but say!—the odds is just meltin' away. +Joe's 'n' Cal's dough is comin' down the line, 'n' the gazabos, +thinkin' it's wise money, trails. By post-time the bird's a +one-to-three shot. +</P> + +<P> +"I've give the mount to Sweeney, 'n' like a nut I puts him hep to the +bird, 'n' he tells his valet to bet a hundred fur him. The bird has on +socks again, but this time they're empty, 'n' the race was a joke. He +breaks fifth at the get-away, but he just mows them dogs down. Sweeney +keeps thinkin' about that hundred, I guess, 'cause he rode the bird all +the way, 'n' finished a million len'ths in front. +</P> + +<P> +"I cashes my ticket, 'n' starts fur the barn to sleep with that bird, +when here comes Joe Nickel. +</P> + +<P> +"'He run a nice race,' he says, grinnin', 'n' hands me six hundred +bucks. +</P> + +<P> +"What's this fur?' I says. 'You better be careful … I got a weak +heart.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I win twelve hundred to the race,' he says. ''N' we splits it two +ways.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Nothin' doin',' I says, 'n' tries to hand him back the wad. +</P> + +<P> +"'Go awn!' he says, 'I'll give you a soak in the ear. I bet that money +fur you, kiddo.' +</P> + +<P> +"I looks at the roll 'n' gets wobbly in the knees. I never see so much +kale before—not at one time. Just then we hears the announcer sing +out through a megaphone: +</P> + +<P> +"'The o-o-owner of Count Nobul-l-l-l is wanted in the judge's stand!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oy, oy!' says Joe. 'You'll need that kale—you're goin' to lose your +happy home. It's Katy bar the door fur yours, Bud!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't worry—watch me tell it to 'em,' I says to Joe, as I stuffs the +roll 'n' starts fur the stand. I was feelin' purty good. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait a minute,' says Joe, runnin' after me. 'You can't tell them +people nothin'. You ain't wise to that bunch yet. Bud—why, they'll +kid you silly before they hand it to you, 'n' then change the subject +to somethin' interestin', like where to get pompono cooked to suit 'em. +I've been up against it,' he says, ''n' I'm tellin' you right. Just +keep stallin' around when you get in the stand, 'n' act like you don't +know the war's over.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Furget it,' I says. 'I'll show those big stiffs where to head in. +I'll hypnotize the old owls. I'll give 'em a song 'n' dance that's +right!' +</P> + +<P> +"As I goes up the steps I see the judges settin' in their chairs, 'n' I +takes off my hat. Colonel King ain't settin', he's standin' up with +his hands in his pockets. Somehow, when I sees <I>him</I> I begins to +wilt—he looks so clean. He's got a white mustache, 'n' his face is +kind-a brown 'n' pink. He looks at me a minute out of them blue eyes +of his. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you the owner of Count Noble, Mr.—er—?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Jones, sir,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Jones?' says the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, sir,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'how do you account for the fact that +on Thursday Count Noble performs disgracefully, and on Saturday runs +like a stake horse? Have the days of the week anything to do with it?' +</P> + +<P> +"I never says nothin'. I just stands there lookin' at him, foolin' +with my hat. +</P> + +<P> +"'This is hell," I thinks. +</P> + +<P> +"'The judges are interested in this phenomenon, Mr. Jones, and we have +sent for you, thinking perhaps you can throw a little light on the +matter,' says the colonel, 'n' waits fur me again. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come on … get busy!' I says to myself. 'You can kid along with a +bunch of bums, 'n' it sounds good—don't get cold feet the first time +some class opens his bazoo at you!' But I can't make a noise like a +word, on a bet. +</P> + +<P> +"'The judges, upon looking over the betting sheets of the two races in +which your horse appeared, find them quite interesting,' says the +colonel. 'The odds were short in the race he did <I>not</I> win; they +remained unchanged—in fact, rose—since only a small amount was +wagered on his chances. On the other hand, these facts are reversed in +to-day's race, which he <I>won</I>. It seems possible that you and your +friends who were pessimists on Thursday became optimists today, and +benefited by the change. Have you done so?' +</P> + +<P> +"I see I has to get some sort-a language out of me. +</P> + +<P> +"'He was a better hoss to-day—that's all I knows about it,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'The <I>first</I> part of your statement seems well within the facts,' says +the colonel. 'He was, apparently, a much better horse to-day. But +these gentlemen and myself, having the welfare of the American +thoroughbred at heart, would be glad to learn by what method he was so +greatly improved.' +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know why I ever does it, but it comes to me how Duckfoot +leaves the towel on the bird's leg, 'n' I don't stop to think. +</P> + +<P> +"'I blistered him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You—<I>what</I>?' says the colonel. I'd have give up the roll quick, +sooner'n spit it out again, but I'm up against it. +</P> + +<P> +"'I blisters him', I says. +</P> + +<P> +"The colonel's face gets red. His eyes bung out 'n' he turns 'round +'n' starts to cough 'n' make noises. The rest of them judges does the +same. They holds on to each other 'n' does it. I know they're givin' +me the laugh fur that fierce break I makes. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're outclassed, kid!' I says to myself. 'They'll tie a can to +you, sure. The gate fur yours!' +</P> + +<P> +"Just then Colonel King turns round, 'n' I see I can't look at him no +more. I looks at my hat, waitin' fur him to say I'm ruled off. I've +got a lump in my throat, 'n' I think it's a bunch of bright +conversation stuck there. But just then a chunk of water rolls out of +my eye, 'n' hits my hat—pow! It looks bigger'n Lake Erie, 'n' 'fore I +kin jerk the hat away—pow!—comes another one. I knows the colonel +sees 'em, 'n' I hopes I croak. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ahem—', he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now I get mine!' I says to myself. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'n' his voice is kind-a cheerful. 'The +judges will accept your explanation. You may go if you wish.'" +</P> + +<P> +Just as I'm goin' down the steps the colonel stops me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I have a piece of advice for you, Mr. Jones,' he says. His voice +ain't cheerful neither. It goes right into my gizzard. I turns and +looks at him. '<I>Keep that horse blistered from now on</I>!' says the +colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"Some ginnies is in the weighin'-room under the stand, 'n' hears it +all. That's how I gets my name." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TWO RINGERS +</H3> + + +<P> +"Hello, ole Four Eyes!" was the semi-affectionate greeting of Blister +Jones. "I ain't seed you lately." +</P> + +<P> +I had found him in the blacksmith shop at Latonia, lazily observing the +smith's efforts to unite Fan Tan and a set of new-made, blue-black +racing-plates. I explained how a city editor had bowed my shoulders +with the labors of Hercules during the last week, and began to acquire +knowledge of the uncertainties connected with shoeing a young +thoroughbred. +</P> + +<P> +A colored stable-boy stood at Fan Tan's wicked-looking head and +addressed in varied tone and temper a pair of flattened ears. +</P> + +<P> +"Whoa! Baby-doll! Dat's ma honey—dat's ma petty chile— … Whoa! +Yuh no-'coun' houn', yuh!" The first of the speech had been delivered +soothingly, as the smith succeeded in getting a reluctant hind leg into +his lap; the last was snorted out as the leg straightened suddenly and +catapulted him into a corner of the shop, where he sat down heavily +among some discarded horseshoes. +</P> + +<P> +The smith arose, sweat and curses dripping from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Chris!" said Blister, "it's a shame the way you treat that pore filly. +She comes into yer dirty joint like a little lady, fur to get a new +pair of shoes, 'n' you grabs her by the leg 'n' then cusses her when +she won't stand fur it." +</P> + +<P> +Part of the curses were now directed at Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, Four Eyes," he said. "This ain't no place fur a minister's +son." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to stay and see the shoeing!" I protested, as he rose to go. +</P> + +<P> +"What shoeing?" he asked incredulously. "You ain't meanin' a big +strong guy like Chris manhandlin' a pore little filly? Come awn—I +can't stand to see him abusin' her no more." +</P> + +<P> +We wandered down to the big brown oval, and Blister, perching himself +on the top rail of the fence, took out his stop-watch, although there +were no horses on the track. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do with that?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Got to do it," he grinned. "If I was to set on a track fence without +ma clock in my mitt, I'd get so nur-r-vous! Purty soon I'd be as +fidgity as that filly back there. Feelin' this ole click-click kind-a +soothes my fevered brow." +</P> + +<P> +In a silence that followed I watched a whipped-cream cloud adrift on +the deepest of deep blue skies. +</P> + +<P> +"Hi, hum!" said Blister presently, and extending his arms in a pretense +of stretching, he shoved me off the fence. "You're welcome," he said +to my protests, and added: "There's a nice matched pair." +</P> + +<P> +A boy, leading a horse, was emerging from the mouth of a stall. +</P> + +<P> +The contrast between them was startling—never had I seen a horse with +so much elegant apparel; rarely had I seen a boy with so little. The +boy, followed by the horse, began to walk a slow circle not far from +where we sat. Suddenly the boy addressed Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, loan me the makin's, will you, pal?" he drawled. +</P> + +<P> +From his hip pocket Blister produced some tobacco in a stained muslin +bag and a wad of crumpled cigarette papers. These he tossed toward the +boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yours trooly," muttered that worthy, as he picked up the "makin's". +"Heard the news about Hicky Rogers?" he asked, while he rolled a +cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothin', except he's a crooked little snipe," Blister answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Huh! that ain't news," said the boy. "They've ruled him off—that's +what I mean." +</P> + +<P> +"That don't surprise me none," Blister stated. "He's been gettin' too +smart around here fur quite a while. It'll be a good riddance." +</P> + +<P> +"Were you ever ruled off the track?" I asked Blister, as the boy, +exhaling clouds of cigarette smoke, returned to the slow walking of his +horse. He studied in silence a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Yep—once," he replied. "I got mine at New Awlins fur ringin' a hoss. +That little ole town has got my goat." +</P> + +<P> +"When was this?" I asked.' +</P> + +<P> +"The year I first starts conditionin' hosses," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +I had noticed that dates totally eluded Blister. A past occurrence as +far as its relation to time was concerned, he always established by a +contemporary event of the turf. Pressed as to when a thing had taken +place he would say, "The year Salvation cops all the colt stakes," or +"The fall Whisk-broom wins the Brooklyn Handicap." This had interested +me and I now tried to get something more definite from him. He +answered my questions vaguely. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, if you're lookin' fur that kind of info," he said at last, "get +the almanac or the byciclopedia. These year things slide by so easy I +don't get a good pike at one, 'fore another is not more'n a len'th +back, 'n' comin' fast." +</P> + +<P> +I saw it was useless. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, never mind just when it happened," I said. "Tell me about it." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," said Blister. "Like I've just said it happens one winter +at New Awlins, the year after I starts conditionin' hosses. +</P> + +<P> +"Things break bad fur me that winter. Whenever a piker can't win a bet +he comes 'round, slaps me on the wrist, 'n' separates me from some of +my kale. I'm so easy I squeezes my roll if I meets a child on the +street. The cops had ought to patrol me, 'cause larceny'll sure be +committed every time a live guy speaks to me. +</P> + +<P> +"I've only got three dogs in my string. One of 'em's a mornin'-glory. +He'll bust away as if he's out to make Salvator look like a truck-hoss, +but he'll lay down 'n' holler fur some one to come 'n' carry him when +he hits the stretch. One's a hop-head 'n' I has to shoot enough dope +into him to make him think he's Napoleon Bonyparte 'fore he'll switch a +fly off hisself. Then when he sees how far away the wire is he thinks +about the battle of Waterloo 'n' says, 'Take me to Elby.' +</P> + +<P> +"I've got one purty fair sort of a hoss. He's just about ready to +spill the beans, fur some odds-on, when he gets cast in the stall 'n' +throws his stifle out. The vet. gets his stifle back in place. +</P> + +<P> +"'This hoss must have a year's complete rest,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, Doc,' I says. ''N' when he gets so he can stand it, how'd a +trip to Europe do fur him?' +</P> + +<P> +"Things go along like this till I'm busted right. No, I ain't +busted—I'm past that. I owes the woman where I eats, I owes the feed +man, I owes the plater, 'n' I owes every gink that'll stand fur a touch. +</P> + +<P> +"One day a messenger boy comes 'n' leans against the stall door 'n' +pokes a yellow envelope at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, Pierpont,' I says, 'what's the good word?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sign here. Two bits,' he says, yawnin'. +</P> + +<P> +"I sees where it says 'charges paid,' 'n' I takes him by the back of +the neck 'n' he gets away to a flyin' start fur the gate. The message +is from Buck Harms. +</P> + +<P> +"'Am at the St Charles, meet me nine a. m. to-morrow,' it says. +</P> + +<P> +"This Harms duck is named right, 'cause that's what he does to every +guy he meets. He's so crooked he can sleep on a corkscrew. When there +ain't nobody else around he'll take money out of one pocket 'n' put it +in another. He's been ruled off twict 'n' there's no chance fur him to +get back. I wouldn't stand fur him only I'm in so bad I has to do +somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'If he takes any coin from me he'll have to be Hermann,' I says to +myself, 'n' I shows up at the hotel the next mawnin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Harms is settin' in the lobby readin' the dope-sheet. I pipes him off +'n' he don't look good to me fur a minute, but I goes over 'n' shakes +his mitt. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, Blister, old scout, how're they breakin'?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'So, so,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'That right?' he says. 'I hears different. Fishhead Peters tells me +they've got you on the ropes.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What th' hell does that gassy Fishhead know about me?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Cut out the stallin',' he says. 'It don't go between friends. Would +you like to git a-holt of a new roll?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't mind tellin' you that sooner 'n have my clothes tore I lets +somebody crowd a bundle of kale on to me,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'That sounds better,' he says. 'Come on—we'll take a cab ride.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Where we goin'?' I asks him, as we gets into a cab. +</P> + +<P> +"'Goin' to look at a hoss,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'What fur?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait till we git there 'n' I'll tell you,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"We rides fur about a hour 'n' pulls up at a barn out in the edge of +town. We goes inside 'n' there's a big sorrel geldin', with a blaize +face, in a box-stall. +</P> + +<P> +"'Look him over,' says Harms. I gets one pike at the hoss— +</P> + +<P> +"'Why! it's ole Friendless!' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Look close,' he says. 'Wait till I get him outside.' +</P> + +<P> +"I looks the hoss over careful when he's outside in the light, 'n' I +don't know what to think. First I think it's Friendless 'n' then I +think maybe it ain't. +</P> + +<P> +"'If it ain't Friendless, it's his double!' I says at last. 'But I +think Friendless has a white forefoot.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, it ain't Friendless,' says Harms as he leads the hoss into the +barn. 'And you're right about the white foot.' +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Friendless is a bird that ain't started fur a year. Harms or +some of his gang used to own him, 'n' <I>believe me</I>, he can <I>ramble +some</I> if everythin' 's done to suit him. He's a funny hoss, 'n' has +notions. If a jock'll set still 'n' not make a move on him, Friendless +runs a grand race. But if a boy takes holt of him or hits him with the +bat, ole Friendless says, 'Nothin' doin' to-day!' 'n' sulks all the +way. He'd have made a great stake hoss only he's dead wise to how much +weight he's packin'. He'll romp with anythin' up to a hundred 'n' ten, +but not a pound over that can you slip him. Looks like he says to +hisself, 'They must think I'm a movin' van,' 'n' he lays his ole ears +back, 'n' dynamite won't make him finish better'n fourth. This little +habit of his'n spoils him 'cause he's too good, 'n' the best he gets +from a handicapper is a hundred 'n' eighteen—that kind of weight lets +him out. +</P> + +<P> +"Goin' back in the cab Harms tells me why he sends fur me. This dog +he's just showed me 's named Alcyfras. He's been runnin' out on the +coast 'n' he's a mutt—he can't beat a fat man. Harms sees him one day +at Oakland, 'n' has a guy buy him. +</P> + +<P> +"Harms brings this pup back East. He has his papers 'n' description +all regular. The guy that buys him ain't wise—he's just a boob Harms +is stallin' with. What he wants me to do is to take the hoss in my +string, get him identified 'n' start him a couple of times; then when +the odds is real juicy I'm to start Friendless under the dog's name 'n' +Harms 'n' his gang'll bet him to a whisper at the poolrooms in Chicago +'n' New York. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where's Friendless now?' I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"'They're gettin' him ready on a bull-ring up in Illinois,' says Harms. +'He's in good shape 'n' 'll be dead ripe time we get ready to ship him +down here. I figure we'll put this gag across about Christmas.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What does the boy wonder get fur swappin' mules with the +Association?' I says. 'I'm just dyin' to know what Santa Claus'll +bring little Alfred.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You get all expenses, twenty-five bucks a week, 'n' a nice slice of +the velvet when we cleans up,' says Harms. +</P> + +<P> +"'Nix, on that noise!' says I. 'If you or some other benevolent gink +don't crowd five hundred iron dollars on G. Percival the day before the +bird flies, he won't leave the perch.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't you trust me?' says Harms. +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure,' I says, 'better'n Cassie Chadwick.' +</P> + +<P> +"He argues, but it don't get him nothin' so he says he'll come across +the day before Friendless brings home the bacon, 'n' I make him cough +enough to pay what I owes. The next day a swipe leads Alcyfras out to +the track. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the name of that dog?' Peewee Simpson yells, as I'm +cross-tyin' the hoss at the stall door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Alcyfras,' I says, as I pulls the blanket off. Peewee comes over 'n' +looks at the hoss a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'Alcy nothin'!' he says. 'If that ain't Friendless, I never sees him.' +</P> + +<P> +"I digs up the roll Harms give me. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll gamble this pinch of spinach his name is Alcyfras,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You kin name what you like far as I'm concerned, 'n' change it every +mawnin' before breakfast,' says Peewee. 'But if you starts him as +anythin' but Friendless we don't see your freckled face 'round here no +more.' +</P> + +<P> +"By this time a bunch has gathered 'n' soon there's a swell argument +on. One guy'll say it's Friendless 'n' another 'll say it ain't. +Finally somebody says to send fur Duckfoot Johnson, who swiped +Friendless fur two years. They send for him. +</P> + +<P> +"When Duckfoot comes he busts through the crowd like he's the paddock +judge. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lemme look at dis hoss,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Everybody draws back 'n' Duckfoot looks the hoss over 'n' then runs +his hand under his barrel close to the front legs. +</P> + +<P> +"'No, sah, dis ain' Frien'less,' he says. 'Frien'less has a white foot +on de off front laig and besides dat he has a rough-feeling scab on de +belly whar he done rip hisself somehow befo' I gits him. Dis dawg am +smooth as a possum.' +</P> + +<P> +"That settles all arguments. You can't fool a swipe 'bout a hoss he's +taken care of. He knows every hair on him. +</P> + +<P> +"One day I'm clockin' this Alcyfras while a exercise-boy sends him +seven-eights. When I looks at my clock I thinks they ought to lay a +thousand-to-one against the mutt, after he starts a couple of times. +Just then somethin' comes 'n' stands in front of me 'n' begins to make +little squeaky noises. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you Mr. Blister?' it says. +</P> + +<P> +"I bats my eyes 'n' nods. +</P> + +<P> +"'I've got 'em again,' I thinks. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, what a relief!' it squeaks. 'I just thought I'd never find you. +I've been looking all over the race course for you!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Gracious! Ferdy, you've had a awful time, ain't you?' I says. 'If +you want to stay out of trouble, read your <I>Ladies' Home Journal</I> more +careful.' +</P> + +<P> +"'My name is Alcibides Tuttle,' says pink toes, drawin' hisself up. +'And I am the owner of the horse called Alcyfras. I purchased this +animal upon the advice of my friend, Mr. Harms, whom I met in San +Francisco.' +</P> + +<P> +"Say! I've worked fur some nutty owners, but this yap's the limit. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, Alci, here comes Alcy now,' I says, as the boy comes up with +the dog, 'n' my new boss stretches his number three neck out of his +number nine collar 'n' blinks at the hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"Alcibides comes back to the stall with me 'n' from then on he sticks +to me tighter 'n a woodtick. He's out to the track every mawnin' by +nine 'n' he don't leave till after the races. He asks me eighty-seven +squeaky questions a minute all the time we're together. I calls him +'n' his hoss both Alcy fur a while, but I changes him to Elsy—that was +less confusin' 'n' it suits him better. +</P> + +<P> +"The next week I starts Alcyfras among a bunch of crabs in a seven +furlong sellin' race, 'n' the judges hold up his entrance till I can +identify him. I hands them his papers 'n' they looks up the +description of Friendless in the stud-book, where it shows he's got one +white foot. Then they wire to the breeder of Alcyfras 'n' to the +tracks in California where the dog has started. The answers come back +all proper 'n' to cinch it I produce Elsy as owner. They look Elsy +over while he tells 'em he's bought the hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"'Gentlemen,' says Colonel King to the other judges, 'the mere sight of +Mr. Tuttle has inspired me with full confidence in his entry and +himself.' He bows to Elsy 'n' Elsy bows to him. The rest of the +judges turn 'round 'n' look at somethin' over across the center-field. +</P> + +<P> +"I tells Elsy his hoss is all to the merry, but we don't want him to +win till the odds get right. He's standin' beside me at the race, 'n' +Alcyfras runs next to last. +</P> + +<P> +"'Of course, I realize you are more familiar with horse racing than +myself,' he says; 'but I think you should have allowed him to do a +little better. What method did you employ to make him remain so far in +the rear?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I tells the jock to pull him,' I says. The boy was usin' the bat +half the trip, but Elsy never tumbles. +</P> + +<P> +"'What do you say to a jockey when you desire him to lose?' Elsy asks +me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I just say—"Grab this one,"' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'What do you say when you require him to win?' he squeaks. +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't say nothin'. I hands him a ticket on the hoss 'n' the jock +wins if he has to get down 'n' carry the dog home,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Not long after this, Friendless gets in from Illinois. I look him +over in the car 'n' I see he's not ready. He's not near ready. +</P> + +<P> +"'What kind of shoemakers give this hoss his prep.?' I asks Harms. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's wrong with him?' he says. 'He looks good to me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'He ain't ready,' I says. 'Look at him 'n' feel him! He'll need ten +days more work 'n' a race under his belt 'fore he's safe to bet real +money on.' +</P> + +<P> +"Harms buys some stuff at a drug store, 'n' gets busy with the white +fore-foot. +</P> + +<P> +"'Only God A'mighty can make as good a sorrel as that!' he says when +he's through. 'Here's the can of dope. Don't let her fade.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What are you goin' to do about this Elsy person?' I says. 'While I +ain't sayin' it's pure joy to have him around, I ain't got the heart to +hand it to him. I don't mind trimmin' boobs—that's what they're +for—but this Elsy thing is too soft. He must be in quite a wad on +this bum hoss of his'n.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Who's Elsy?' says Harms. +</P> + +<P> +"I tells him, 'n' he laughs. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is that what you call him?' he says. 'What's bitin' you—ain't +Friendless goin' to win a nice purse for him?' +</P> + +<P> +"About ten o'clock that night Alcyfras goes out one gate 'n' Friendless +comes in another. I keeps the foot stained good, 'n' shuts the stall +door whenever Duckfoot shows up. In ten days the hoss is right on edge +'n' one race'll put the finish on him, so I enter him, in a bunch of +skates, as Alcyfras. I gives the mount to Lou Smith—he ain't much of +a jock, but he'll ride to orders. Just before the race I has a heart +to heart talk with Lou. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fur this hoss to win you don't make a move on him,' I says. 'If you +hand him the bat or take hold of him at the get-away he sulks.' +</P> + +<P> +"'All right, I lets him alone,' says Lou. +</P> + +<P> +"'When I'm ready fur you to let him alone I slips you a nice ticket on +this bird. You ain't got a ticket to-day, have you?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not so's you could notice,' says Lou. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you hep?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I got-cha, Bo,' says Lou. +</P> + +<P> +"I see Lou's arm rise 'n' fall a couple of times at the start 'n' ole +Friendless finished fifth, his ears laid back, sulkier 'n a grass widow +at a married men's picnic. +</P> + +<P> +"'You let him do better to-day,' says Elsy. 'Isn't it time to allow +him to win?' +</P> + +<P> +"'He wins his next out,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"I tell Harms we're ready fur the big show 'n' I looks fur a nice race +to drop the good thing into. But it starts to rain 'n' it keeps it up +a week. Friendless ain't a mudder 'n' we has to have a fast track fur +our little act of separating the green stuff from the poolrooms. I'm +afraid the bird stales off if I don't get a race into him, so I enters +him among a pretty fair bunch of platers, to keep him on edge. +</P> + +<P> +"Three days before the race the weather gets good 'n' the track begins +to dry out fast. I see it's goin' to be right fur my race 'n' I meets +Harms 'n' tells him to wire his bunch to bet their heads off. +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't like this race,' he says, when he looks at the entries. +'There's two or three live ones in here. This Black-jack ain't such a +bad pup, 'n' this here Pandora runs a bang-up race her last out. Let's +wait fur somethin' easier.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, if you ain't a sure-thing better, I never gets my lamps on +one!' I says. 'Don't you want me to saw the legs off the rest of them +dogs to earn my five hundred? You must have forgot ole Friendless. +He's only got ninety-six pounds up! He'll tin can sure! He kin fall +down 'n' roll home faster than them kind of hosses.' +</P> + +<P> +"But Harms won't take a chance, so I goes back to the track 'n' I was +sore. +</P> + +<P> +"'That guy's a hot sport, not!' I thinks. +</P> + +<P> +"I hates to tell Elsy the hoss he thinks is his won't win—he'd set his +little heart on it so. I don't tell him till the day before the race, +'n' he gets right sassy about it. I never see him so spunky. +</P> + +<P> +"'As owner, I insist that you allow Alcyfras to win this race,' he +says, 'n' goes away in a pet when I tells him nix. +</P> + +<P> +"The day of the race I don't see Elsy at all. +</P> + +<P> +"'You ain't got a ticket to-day, 'n' you know the answer,' I says to +Lou Smith as the parade starts. He don't say nothin' but nods, so I +think he's fixed. +</P> + +<P> +"When I come through the bettin' ring I can't believe my eyes. There's +Alcyfras at four-to-one all down the line. He opened at fifty, so +somebody has bet their clothes on him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where does all this play on Alcyfras come from?' I says to a booky. +</P> + +<P> +"'A lost shrimp wanders in here and starts it,' says the booky. +</P> + +<P> +"'What does he look like?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Like a maiden's prayer,' says the booky, 'n' I beats it out to the +stand. +</P> + +<P> +"Elsy is at the top of the steps lookin' kind of haughty, 'n' +say!—he's got a bundle of tickets a foot thick in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"'What dead one's name is on all them soovenirs?' I says, pointin' to +the tickets. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Blister,' he says, 'after our conversation yesterday I made +inquiry concerning the rights of a trainer. I was informed that a +trainer, as a paid employee, is under the direction of the owner—his +employer. You refused to allow my horse to win, contrary to my wishes. +You had no right to do so. I intend that he <I>shall</I> win, and have +wagered accordingly—these tickets are on Alcyfras.' He's nervous 'n' +fidgity, 'n' his voice is squeakier 'n ever. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, Mr. Belmont,' I says, 'did you happen to give instructions to +any more of your employees, your jockey, fur instance?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I have adopted the method you informed me was the correct one,' he +says, swellin' up. 'I gave a ticket at fifty-to-one calling for one +hundred and two dollars to Mr. Smith, and explained to him that I was +the owner.' +</P> + +<P> +"Before Elsy gets through I'm dopey. I looks over his tickets 'n' he +figures to win eight thousand to the race. I have two iron men in my +jeans—I don't even go down 'n' bet it. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the use?' I says to myself. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't hardly see the race, I'm so groggy from the jolt Elsy hands +me. Friendless breaks in front and stays there all the way. Lou Smith +just sets still 'n' lets the hoss rate hisself. That ole hound comes +down the stretch a-rompin', his ears flick-flackin' 'n' a smile on his +face. He wins by five len'ths 'n' busts the track record fur the +distance a quarter of a second. +</P> + +<P> +"Then it begins to get brisk around there. I figger to have Alcyfras +all warmed up outside the fence the day Friendless wins. After the +race I'd put <I>him</I> in the stall 'n' send Friendless out the gate. +Elsy, practisin' the owner act, has gummed the game—Alcyfras is over +in the other end of town. +</P> + +<P> +"Ole Friendless bustin' the track record is the final blow. I don't +hardly get to the stall 'fore here comes the paddock judge 'n' his +assistant. +</P> + +<P> +"'We want this hoss and you, too, over at the paddock,' he says. +'What's the owner's name?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Alcibides Tuttle,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is that all?' says the paddock judge. 'Go get him, Billy!' he says +to his assistant. 'You'll likely find him cashin' tickets.' +</P> + +<P> +"When we gets to the paddock, there's Colonel King and the rest of the +judges. +</P> + +<P> +"'Take his blanket off,' says the colonel, when we leads in the hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's red-hot, Colonel,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'So am I,' says the colonel. 'Who was caretaker for the horse +Friendless when he was racing?' he asks some of the ginnies. +</P> + +<P> +"'Duckfoot Johnson,' says the whole bunch at once. +</P> + +<P> +"'Send for him,' says the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'I's hyar, boss,' says Duckfoot, from the back of the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come and look this horse over,' says the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'I done looked him over befo', boss,' says Duckfoot, when he gets to +the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'When?' says the colonel. 'When did you see him?' +</P> + +<P> +"''Bout a month ago,' says Duckfoot. +</P> + +<P> +"'Did you recognize him?' says the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, sah,' says Duckfoot, 'I done recnomize him thoully fum his haid +to his tail, but I ain' never seed him befo'.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Recnomize him again,' the colonel tells him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Boss,' says Duckfoot, 'some folks 'low dis hoss am Frien'less, but +hit ain'. Ef hits Frien'less, an' yo' puts yo' han' hyar on his belly +dey is a rough-feelin' scab. Dis hoss am puffeckly smo-o—' then he +stops 'n' begins to get ashy 'round the mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well?' says the colonel. 'What's the matter?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Lawd Gawd, boss! <I>Dis am Frien'less … Hyar's de scah</I>!' says +Duckfoot, his eyes a-rollin'. Then he goes 'round 'n' looks at the +hoss in front. 'Whar his white foot at?' he asks the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's what we are about to ascertain,' says the colonel. 'Boy,' he +says to a ginny, 'run out to the drug store with this dollar and bring +me back a pint of benzine and a tooth-brush.' +</P> + +<P> +"The ginny beats it. +</P> + +<P> +"'You may blanket this horse now,' the colonel says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"When the ginny gets back, Colonel King pours the benzine on the +tooth-brush 'n' goes to work on the off-forefoot. It ain't long till +it's nice 'n' white again. +</P> + +<P> +"'That is most remarkable!' says Elsy, who's watchin' the colonel. +</P> + +<P> +"'In my opinion, Mr. Tuttle,' says the colonel, 'the only remarkable +feature of this affair is yourself. I can't get you properly placed. +The Association will take charge of this horse until the judges rule.' +</P> + +<P> +"The next day the judges send fur me 'n' Elsy. It don't take Colonel +King thirty seconds to rule me off—I don't get back fur two years, +neither! Then the colonel looks at Elsy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Tuttle,' he says, 'if your connection with this business is as +innocent as it seems, you should be protected against a further +appearance on the turf. On the other hand, if you have acted a part in +this little drama, the turf should be protected against you. In either +case the judges desire to bring your career as an owner to a close; and +we hereby bar you and your entries from all tracks of the Association. +This is final and irrevocable.' +</P> + +<P> +"Three years after that I'm at Hot Springs, 'n' I drops into McGlade's +place one night to watch 'em gamble. There's a slim guy dealin' faro +fur the house, 'n' he's got a green eye-shade on. All of a sudden he +looks up at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister,' he says, 'do you ever tumble there's two ringers in the New +Awlins deal? Me 'n' Buck Harms has quite a time puttin' it +over—without slippin' you five hundred.' +</P> + +<P> +"It's Elsy! 'N' say!—<I>his voice ain't any squeakier 'n mine</I>!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WANTED--A RAINBOW +</H3> + + +<P> +At our last meeting Blister had told me of a "ringing" in years gone by +that had ended disastrously for him. And now as we idled in the big +empty grand-stand a full hour before it would be electrified by the +leaping phrase, "They're off!" I desired further reminiscences. +</P> + +<P> +"Ringing a horse must be a risky business?" I ventured. +</P> + +<P> +"Humph!" grunted Blister, evidently declining to comment on the obvious. +Then he glanced at me with a dry whimsical smile. "I see that little ole +pad stickin' out of your pocket," he said. "Ain't she full of race-hoss +talk yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Always room for one more," I replied, frankly producing the note-book. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I guess I'm the goat," he said resignedly. "I <I>had</I> figured to +sick you on to Peewee Simpson to-day, but he ain't around, so I'll spill +some chatter about ringin' a hoss among the society bunch one time, 'n' +then I'll buy a bucket of suds." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I'll</I> buy the beer," I stated with emphasis. +</P> + +<P> +"All right—just so we get it—I'll be dryer'n a covered bridge," said +Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"This ringin' I mentions," he went on, "happens while I'm ruled off. +</P> + +<P> +"At the get-away I've got a job with a Chicago buyer, who used to live in +New York. This guy has a big ratty barn. He deals mostly in broken-down +skates that he sells to pedlers 'n' cabmen. Once in a while he takes a +flier in high-grade stuff, 'n' one day he buys a team of French coach +hosses from a breedin' farm owned by a millionaire. +</P> + +<P> +"Believe me they was a grand pair—seal brown, sixteen hands 'n' haired +like babies. They fans their noses with their knees, when get's the +word, 'n' after I sits behind 'em 'n' watches their hock-action fur a +while I feels like apologizin' to 'em fur makin' 'em haul a bum like me. +</P> + +<P> +"These dolls go East,' says the guy I works fur. 'They don't pull no +pig-sticker in this burg. They'll be at the Garden so much they'll head +fur Madison Square whenever they're taken out.' +</P> + +<P> +"He ships the pair East 'n' sends me with 'em as caretaker. I deliver +'em to a swell sales company up-town in New York. +</P> + +<P> +"This concern has some joint—take it from me—every floor is just +bulgin' with hosses that's so classy they sends 'em to a manicure parlor +'stead of a blacksmith's shop. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a big show-ring, with a balcony all 'round it, on the top floor. +They take my pair up there 'n' hook 'em to a hot wagon painted yellow, +'n' the company's main squeeze, named Brown, comes up to see 'em act. +I'm facin' the door just as a guy starts to lead a hoss into the +show-ring. The pair swings by, this hoss shies back sudden 'n' I see him +make a queer move with his off rear leg. Brown don't see it—he's got +his back to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"The guy leads the hoss up to us. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here's that hunter I phoned you about, Mr. Brown,' he says. The hoss +is a toppy trick—bright bay, short backed, good coupled 'n' 'll weigh +eleven hundred strong. But he's got a knot on his near-fore that shows +plain. +</P> + +<P> +"'I thought you told me he was sound?' says Brown, lookin' at the knot. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the matter with you, Mr. Brown?' says the guy. 'That little +thing don't bother him. Any eight-year-old hunter that knows the game is +bound to be blemished in front.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Can you tell an unsound one when you look at him?' Brown asks me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I can smell a dink a mile off,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here's an outside party,' says Brown; 'let's hear what he has to say. +Feel that bump, young man!' he says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"I runs my hand over the knot. +</P> + +<P> +"'That don't hurt him,' I says. 'It's on the shin 'n' part of it's thick +skin.' +</P> + +<P> +"'There!' says the guy. 'Your own man's against you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'He's not my man,' says Brown, lookin' at me disgusted. +</P> + +<P> +"'This ain't my funeral,' I says to Brown. ''N' I ain't had a call to +butt in. If you tells me to butt—I butts.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Go to it,' says Brown. +</P> + +<P> +"'Do you throw a crutch in with this one?' I says to the guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'What does he need a crutch for?' he says, givin' me a sour look. +</P> + +<P> +"I takes the hoss by the head, backs him real sudden, 'n' he lifts the +off-rear high 'n' stiff. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's a stringer,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Brown gives the guy the laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"'You might get thirty dollars from a Jew pedler for him,' he says. +'He'll make a high-class hunter—for paper, rags and old iron.' +</P> + +<P> +"'How did you know that horse was string-halted so quick?' says Brown to +me when the guy has gone. +</P> + +<P> +"'I told you I can smell a dink,' I says. But I don't tell him what I +sees at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'I think we could use you and your nose around here,' he says. 'Are you +stuck on Chicago?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Me fur this joint,' I says, lookin' 'round. 'Do I have to get my hair +waved more 'n' twict a week?' +</P> + +<P> +"'We'll waive that in your case,' he says, laughin' at his bum joke. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't do that again,' I says. 'I've a notion to quit right here.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd hate to lose an old employee like you—I'll have to be more +careful,' he says—'n' I'm workin' fur Mr. Brown. +</P> + +<P> +"About a week after this, I'm bringin' a hackney up to the showroom fur +Brown to look at, when a young chap dressed like a shoffer stops me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I wish to see Mr. Brown, my man,' he says. 'Can you tell me where he +is?' +</P> + +<P> +"No shofe can spring this 'my man' stuff on <I>me</I>, 'n' get away with it. +But a blind kitten can see this guy's all the gravy. There's somethin' +about him makes you think the best ain't near as good as he wants. I +tells him to come along with me, 'n' when we gets up to the showroom he +sticks a card at Brown. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, indeed—Mr. Van Voast!' says Brown, when he squints at the card. +'You're almost the only member of your family I have been unable to +serve. I believe I have read that you are devoted to the motor game.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's an indiscretion I hope to rectify—I want a hunter,' says the +young chap. +</P> + +<P> +"'Take that horse down and bring up Sally Waters,' says Brown to me. +</P> + +<P> +"This Sally Waters is a chestnut mare that's kep' in a big stall where +she gets the best light 'n' air in the buildin'. A lot of guys have +looked at her, but the price is so fierce nobody takes her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is that the best you have?' says the young chap, when I gets back with +her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, Mr. Van Voast,' says Brown. 'And she's as good as ever stood on +four legs! She'll carry your weight nicely, too.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Is she fast?' says the young chap. +</P> + +<P> +"'After racing at ninety miles an hour, anything in horse-flesh would +seem slow to you, I presume,' says Brown. 'But she is an extremely fast +hunter, and very thorough at a fence.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Do you know Ferguson's Macbeth?' says the young chap. +</P> + +<P> +"'I ought to,' says Brown. 'We imported Macbeth and Mr. Ferguson bought +him from me.' +</P> + +<P> +"The young chap studies a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'I might as well tell you that I want a hunter to beat Macbeth for the +Melford Cup,' he says at last. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, oh!' says Brown. 'That's too large an order, Mr. Van Voast—I +can't fill it.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You don't think this mare can beat Macbeth?' says the young chap. +</P> + +<P> +"'No, sir, I do not,' says Brown. 'Nor any other hunter I ever saw. +There might be something in England that would be up to it, but I don't +know what it would be—and money wouldn't buy it if I knew.' +</P> + +<P> +"The young chap won't look at the mare no more, 'n' Brown tells me to put +her up. I hustles her back to the stall, 'n' goes down to the street +door 'n' waits. There's a big gray automobile at the curb, with six guns +stickin' out of her side in front—she looks like a battle-ship. Pretty +soon the young chap comes out 'n' starts to board her 'n' I braces him. +</P> + +<P> +"'I think I know where you can get the hoss you're lookin' fur,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"He stares at me kind-a puzzled fur a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, yes, you are the man who brought the mare up-stairs,' he says. +'What leads you to believe you can find a hunter good enough to beat +Macbeth?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I ain't said nothin' about a hunter,' I says. 'Would you stand fur a +ringer?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I think I get your inference,' he says. 'Be a little more specific, +please.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If I puts you hep to a hoss that ain't no more a hunter than that +automobile,' I says, 'but can run like the buzz-wagon 'n' jump like a +hunter—could you use him in your business?' +</P> + +<P> +"'What sort of a horse would that be?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'A thoroughbred,' I says. 'A bang-tail.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh—a runner,' he says. 'Do you know anything about the runners?' +</P> + +<P> +"'A few,' I says. 'I'm on the track nine years.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What are you doing here?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ruled off,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hm-m!' he says. 'What for?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ringin',' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You seem to run to that sort of thing,' he says. 'What's your name?' +he asks. +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister Jones,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Delightful!' he says. 'I'm glad I met you. Who has this remarkable +horse?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Peewee Simpson,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Equally delightful! I'd like to meet him, too,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's in Loueyville,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Regrettable,' he says. 'What's the name of his horse?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Rainbow,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'And I thought this was to be a dull day,' he says. 'Jump in here and +take a ride. I don't know that I care to go rainbow-chasing assisted by +Blisters, and Peewees—but nefarious undertakings have always appealed to +me, and I desire to cultivate your acquaintance.' +</P> + +<P> +"We goes fur a long ride in the battle-ship. He don't say much—just +asks questions 'n' listens to my guff. At last I opens up on the Rainbow +deal, 'n' I tries all I know to get him goin'—I sure slips him some warm +conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"'You heard what Brown said of Macbeth!' he says. 'Why are you so +certain this Rainbow can beat him in a steeplechase?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, listen, man!' I says. 'This Rainbow is the best ever. He can +beat any brush-topper now racin' if the handicapper don't overload him. +<I>He's</I> been coppin' where they race your eyeballs off. <I>He's</I> been +makin' good against the real thing. <I>He's a thoroughbred</I>! If <I>he</I> +turns in one of these here parlor races fur gents, with a bunch of +hunters, <I>they won't know which way he went</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"'The runners I have seen are all neck and legs. They don't look like +hunters at all,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're thinkin' about these here flat-shouldered sprinters,' I says. +'This Rainbow is a brush-topper. He's got a pair of shoulders on <I>him</I> +'n' he's the jumpin'est thoroughbred ever I saw. Course he's rangier 'n +most huntin'-bred hosses, but with a curb to put some bow in his neck, +he'll pass fur a hunter anywhere!' +</P> + +<P> +"'There is one sad thing I haven't told you,' he says. 'I must ride the +horse myself.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What's sad about that?' I says. 'You ain't much over a hundred 'n' +forty, at a guess.' +</P> + +<P> +"'The trouble is not with my weight—it's my disposition,' he says. 'I +have not ridden for ten years. In fact I never rode much. To tell you +the truth—I'm afraid of a horse.' +</P> + +<P> +"Say—I'd liked that young chap fine till then! I think he's handin' me +a josh at first. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're kiddin' me, ain't you?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'No,' he says. 'I'm not kidding you. I've fought my fear of horses +since I was old enough to think. Lately it has become necessary for me +to ride, and I'm going to do it—it it kills me!' +</P> + +<P> +"We were back to my joint by this time 'n' he looks at me 'n' laughs. +</P> + +<P> +"'Cheer up!' he says. 'I'll think over what you told me and let you +know. I go over to Philadelphia to-morrow to race in a "buzz-wagon," as +you call it. I don't want you to think me entirely chicken-hearted—and +I'll take you with me, if Brown can spare you.' +</P> + +<P> +"The next day he shows up in the battle-ship. +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister,' he says, 'I don't know just how far I'll be willing to go in +the affair, but if you can get Rainbow, I'll buy him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Now you've said somethin',' I says. 'Head fur the nearest telegraph +office 'n' I'll wire Peewee.' +</P> + +<P> +"'They're likely to ask a stiff price fur this hoss,' I says when we gets +to the telegraph office. +</P> + +<P> +"'Buy him,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>Do you mean the sky's the limit</I>?' I says, 'n' he nods. +</P> + +<P> +"We cross on the ferry after sendin' the wire. He has the battle-ship +under wraps till we hit the open country, 'n' then he lets her step. We +gets to goin' faster 'n' faster. I can't see, 'n' I think my eyebrows +have blowed off. I'm so scared I feel like my stumick has crawled up in +my chest, but I hopes this is the limit, 'n' I grits my teeth to keep +from yelpin'. Just then we hits a long straight road, 'n' what we'd been +doin' before seemed like backin' up. I can't breathe 'n' I can't stand +no more of it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Holy cats!' I yells. 'Cut it!' +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the matter?' he says, when he's slowed down. +</P> + +<P> +"'Holy cats!' I says again. 'Is that what racin' in these things is +like?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, no,' he says. 'My mechanic took my racing car over yesterday. +This is only a roadster.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Only a—what?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Only a roadster—a pleasure car,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh—a pleasure car,' I says. 'It's lucky you told me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'It's all in getting accustomed to it,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"I spends the night at a hotel in Philadelphia with a guy named Ben, +who's the mechanic, 'n' the next mawnin' I sees the race. Say! +Prize-fightin', or war, or any of them little games is like button-button +to this automobile racin'! They kills two guys that day 'n' why they +ain't all killed is by me. The young chap finishes second to some +Eyetalian—but that Dago sure knowed he'd been in a race. +</P> + +<P> +"''N' he's the guy that's afraid of a hoss!' I says to myself. 'Now, +wouldn't that scald you?' +</P> + +<P> +"When he leaves me at my joint in New York the young chap writes on a +card 'n' hands it to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here's my name and present address,' he says. 'Let me know when you +hear from our friend Peewee.' +</P> + +<P> +"Printed on the card is 'Mr. William Dumont Van Voast,' 'n' in pencil, +'Union Club, New York City.' +</P> + +<P> +"The next day I gets a wire from Peewee in answer to mine. +</P> + +<P> +"'Sound as a dollar. Eighteen hundred bones buys him. P. W. Simpson,' +it says. +</P> + +<P> +"I phones Mr. Van, 'n' he says to go to it—so I wires Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'Check on delivery if sound. You know me. Ship with swipe first +express. Blister Jones.' +</P> + +<P> +"In two days Duckfoot Johnson leads ole Rainbow into the joint, 'n' I +tells Brown it's a hoss fur Mr. Van. I looks him over good 'n' he's O. +K. I gets Mr. Van on the phone 'n' he comes up 'n' writes a check fur +eighteen hundred, payable to Peewee. He gives this to Duckfoot, slips +him twenty-five bucks fur hisself, 'n' hands him the fare back to +Loueyville besides. +</P> + +<P> +"'What next?' says Mr. Van to me. 'Do we need a burglar's kit, and some +nitroglycerin, or does that class of crime come later?' +</P> + +<P> +"'We want a vet. right now,' I says. 'This bird has got to lose some +tail feathers.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, you are the chief buccaneer!' says Mr. Van. 'I'll serve as one +of the pirate crew at present. When you have the good ship Rainbow +shortened at the stem and ready to carry the jolly Roger over the high +seas—I should say, fences—let me know. In the meantime,' he says, +slippin' me five twenties, 'here are some pieces-of-eight with which to +buy cutlasses, hand grenades and other things we may need.' +</P> + +<P> +"I has the vet. dock Rainbow's tail, 'n' as soon as it heals I lets Mr. +Van know. He tells me to bring the hoss to Morrisville, New Jersey, on +the three o'clock train next day. +</P> + +<P> +"When I unloads from the express car at Morrisville, there's Mr. Van and +a shoffer in the battle-ship. +</P> + +<P> +"'Just follow along behind, Blister!' says Mr. Van, 'n' drives off slow +down the street. +</P> + +<P> +"We go through town 'n' out to a big white house, with pillars down the +front. Mr. Van stops the battle-ship at the gates. +</P> + +<P> +"'Take the car to the Williamson place—Mr. Williamson understands,' he +says to the shofe. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonders why he stops out here—it's a quarter of a mile to the house. +When we gets to the house there's an old gent, with gray hair, settin' on +the porch. He gets up when he sees us, 'n' limps down the steps with a +cane. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't disturb yourself, Governor!' says Mr. Van. 'Anybody here?' +</P> + +<P> +"'No, I'm alone,' says the old gent. 'Your sister is with the +Dandridges. Your man came this morning, so I was expecting you.' Then +he looks at Rainbow. 'What's that?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'A horse I've bought,' says Mr. Van. 'I'm thinking of going in for +hunting.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh! <I>She's</I> brought you to it, has she?' says the old gent. '<I>I</I> +never could. Why do you bring the horse here?' +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Van flushes up. +</P> + +<P> +"'You know what a duffer I am on a horse, Governor,' he says. 'Well, I +want to try for the Melford Cup. I'd like to build a course on the +place, and school myself under your direction.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah, ha!' says the old gent. 'And then the conquering hero will descend +on Melford, to capture the place in general, and one of its fair +daughters in particular!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Something like that,' says Mr. Van. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll be glad to help you all I can,' says the old gent, 'just so long +as you don't bring one of those stinking things you usually inhabit on +these premises!' +</P> + +<P> +"'It's a bargain. I've already sent the one I came in to Ralph +Williamson,' says Mr. Van, 'n' we takes Rainbow to the stables. +</P> + +<P> +"I liked Mr. Van's old man right away, 'n' when he finds out I knows as +much about a hoss as he does, he treats me like a brother. +</P> + +<P> +"He gets busy quick, 'n' has the men fix up a mile course on the place +with eight fences in it—some of 'em fierce. +</P> + +<P> +"'Twice around, and you have the Melford course to a dot,' he says. +'Now, young man,' he says to me, 'you get the horse ready and I'll go to +work on the rider.' 'N' believe me, he does it. +</P> + +<P> +"His bum leg won't let him ride no more, but he puts Mr. Van on a good +steady jumper, 'n' drives besides the course in a cart, tellin' him what +to do. He keeps Mr. Van goin' till I think he'll put him out of +business—'n' say!—but he cusses wicked when things don't go to suit him! +</P> + +<P> +"'Stick your knees in and keep your backbone limber! Hold his head up +now at this jump—<I>don't drag at his mouth that way</I>! Why! damn it +all!… you haven't as good hands as a cab-driver,' is the kind of +stuff he keeps yellin' at poor Mr. Van. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm workin' Rainbow each day, 'n' in three weeks I take him twice around +the course at a good clip. +</P> + +<P> +"'The hoss'll do in another week,' I says to the old gent. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll be ready fur you,' he says, shuttin' his mouth, 'n' that was the +worst week of all for Mr. Van. But he improved wonderful, 'n' one +mawnin' he takes Rainbow over the course at speed. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not half bad!' says the old gent when they come back. 'He's not up to +his horse yet,' he says to me. 'But between 'em they'll worry that +Melford crowd some, or I miss my guess!' +</P> + +<P> +"A day or so after that we starts for Melford. The old gent says good-by +to me, 'n' then he sticks out his mitt at Mr. Van. +</P> + +<P> +"'God bless you, boy!' he says. 'I wish you luck both in the race +and—elsewhere.' +</P> + +<P> +"Say, this Melford is the horsiest burg ever I saw! They don't do +nothin' but ride 'em 'n' drive 'em 'n' chew the rag about 'em—men 'n' +women the same. Even the kids has toppy little ponies and has hoss shows +fur their stuff. +</P> + +<P> +"They has what they call a Hunt Club, 'n' everybody hangs out there. +This club gives the cup Mr. Van wants to win. The race fur it is pulled +off once a year, 'n' only club members can enter. +</P> + +<P> +"The Ferguson guy has won the race twice with the Macbeth hoss 'n' if he +wins it again he keeps the cup. The race is due in two weeks, but there +ain't much talk about it—everybody knows Ferguson'll win sure. +</P> + +<P> +"This Ferguson has all the kale in the world. He lives in a house so big +it looks like the Waldorf. But from what I hear, the bloods ain't so +awful strong fur him—except his ridin', they all take their hats off to +that. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a girl named Livingston 's the best rider among the dames, 'n', +believe me, she's a swell doll—she's the niftiest filly I ever gets my +lamps on—she's all to the peaches 'n' cream. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't take me long to see that Mr. Van is nutty, right, about this +one, but it looks like Ferguson has the bulge on him, 'cause her 'n' +Ferguson is always out in front when they chase the hounds, 'n' they ride +together a lot. We're at Mr. Van's brother's place, 'n' when we first +get there Mr. Van puts me wise. +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister,' he says, 'you must now assume the disguise of a groom. While +you and I know we are partners in crime, custom requires an outward +change in our heretofore delightful relationship—keep your eyes open and +act accordingly.' +</P> + +<P> +"I'm dead hep to what he means, 'n' when I'm rigged up like all the rest +of the swipes around there, I touches my hat to him whenever he tells me +anythin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Everybody joshes Mr. Van about his ridin', but they get over that +sudden—the first time he chases hounds with 'em ole Rainbow 'n' him +stays right at the head of the procession. I'm waitin' at the club to +take the hoss home after the run. When Mr. Van is turnin' him over to me +Miss Livingston comes up. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm so <I>proud</I> of you!' she says to him. 'It was splendid … I told +you you could do anything you tried!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Rainbow's the chap who deserves your approval,' says Mr. Van, pointin' +to the hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"'Indeed, he does—the old precious!' she says, 'n' rubs her face against +Rainbow's nose. Just then Ferguson rides up with a English gink who's a +friend of Mr. Van's, 'n' the dame beats it into the club-house. This +Englishman is a lord or a duke or somethin', 'n' he's visitin' Mr. Van's +brother. Ferguson ain't on Macbeth. He's rode a bay mare that day, 'n' +Rainbow has outrun 'n' out-jumped her. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's quite a horse you have there, Van,' Ferguson says. 'A bit +leggy—isn't he?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Perhaps he is,' says Mr. Van. 'But I like something that can get over +the country.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Going to enter him for the cup?' says Ferguson. +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't know yet,' says Mr. Van, careless. 'I must see the committee, +and tell them his antecedents—this horse rather outclasses most hunters.' +</P> + +<P> +"'He doesn't outclass mine, over the cup course, for five thousand!' says +Ferguson, gettin' red. +</P> + +<P> +"'Done!' says Mr. Van, quiet-like. 'If the committee says I'm eligible +we'll settle it in the cup race. If not, we can run a match.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Entirely satisfactory,' says Ferguson, 'n' starts to go. But he comes +back, 'n' looks at Mr. Van wicked. 'By the way,' he says, 'money doesn't +interest either of us at present. Suppose we raise the stake this +way—the loser will take a trip abroad, for a year, and in the meantime +we both agree to let matters rest—in a certain quarter.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Done!' says Mr. Van again. He looks at the other guy colder 'n ice +when he says it. +</P> + +<P> +"Ferguson nods to him 'n' rides off. +</P> + +<P> +"The English gink has heard the bet, 'n' when Ferguson beats it he shakes +his head. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, old chap!' he says. 'That's a bit raw—don't you think? I'm sorry +you let him draw you. It's a beastly mess.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm not afraid of him and his horse!' says Mr. Van. But I can see he +ain't feelin' joyous. +</P> + +<P> +"'Damn him and his hawss—and you too!' says the English gink. 'Aw, it's +the young girl you've dragged into it, Billy!' +</P> + +<P> +"'It's a confidential matter, and no names were mentioned,' says Mr. Van. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't quibble, old chap!' says the English gink. 'The name's nothing. +And as for its being confidential—Ferguson is sure to tell +that—aw—French puppy he's so thick with, and the viscawnt'll +be—aw—tea-tabling it about by five o'clock!' +</P> + +<P> +"'You're right, of course,' says Mr. Van, slow. 'It was a low thing to +do—a cad's trick. No wonder you English are so rotten superior. You +don't need brains—the right thing's bred into your bones. Your tempers +never show you up. We revert to the gutter at the pinch.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, I say! That's bally nonsense!' says the English gink. 'I would +have done the same thing.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Not unless the fifteen hundred years it's taken to make you were wiped +off the slate,' says Mr. Van. 'However, I'll have to see it through now.' +</P> + +<P> +"The guys that run the club say Rainbow can start in the cup race. Mr. +Van tells me, 'n' the next week I watch him while he sends the hoss over +the course. We're comin' up towards the club-house, after the work-out, +'n' we run into Miss Livingston. She hands Mr. Van the icy stare 'n' he +starts to say something but she breaks in. +</P> + +<P> +"'I wonder you care to waste any words on a mere racing wager,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Please let me try to explain …' says Mr. Van. +</P> + +<P> +"'There can be no explanation. What you did was the act of a boor—and a +fool,' says the dame, 'n' walks on by. +</P> + +<P> +"I think over what she says. 'She's more sore cause she thinks he'll +lose than anythin' else,' I says to myself. 'He ain't in so bad, after +all.' But Mr. Van don't tumble. He's awful glum from then on. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a fierce mob of swells at the course the day of the race, classy +rigs as far as you can see. The last thing I says to Mr. Van is: +</P> + +<P> +"'You've got the step of them any place in the route, but you're on a +thoroughbred, 'n' he'll run hisself into the ground if you let him. You +don't know how to rate him right—so stay close to the Macbeth hoss till +you come to the last fence, then turn Rainbow loose, 'n' he'll make his +stretch-run alone.' +</P> + +<P> +"There's six entries, but the race is between Rainbow and Macbeth from +the get-away. Macbeth is a black hoss, 'n' I never believed till then a +hunter could romp that fast. He was three len'ths ahead of the field at +the first fence, with Rainbow right at his necktie. They gets so far +ahead, nobody sees the other starters from the second fence on. Mr. Van +rides just like I tells him, 'n' lets the black hoss make the pace. +Man!—that hunter did run! Towards the end both hosses begin to tire, +but the clip was easier fur the thoroughbred, 'n' I see Rainbow's got the +most left. +</P> + +<P> +"Before they come to the last fence Mr. Van turns his hoss loose like I +tells him, 'n' he starts to come away from Macbeth. My! but those swells +did holler! They never thought Rainbow has a chance. At the last fence +he's a len'th in front, 'n' right there it happens Mr. Van don't take +hold of him enough to keep his head up, 'n' he blunders at the fence 'n' +comes down hard on his knees. Mr. Van slides clear to the hoss's ears, +'n' the crowd gives a groan as Macbeth comes over 'n' goes by. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's gone!' I says to myself, 'n' I can't believe it when he gets back +in the saddle somehow 'n' starts to ride. But the black hoss has a good +six len'ths 'n' now two hundred yards to go. +</P> + +<P> +"'He'll never reach …' I says out loud. 'He'll never reach …' +</P> + +<P> +"Then Rainbow begins his stretch-run with the blood comin' out of his +knees, 'n' while he's a tired hoss, a gamer one never looks through a +bridle. I ain't knockin' that hunter—there was no canary in him, but I +think a game thoroughbred's the gamest hoss that lives! +</P> + +<P> +"Ole Rainbow is a straight line from his nose to his tail. His ears is +flat 'n' his mouth's half open fur air. Every jump he takes looks thirty +feet long 'n' he's gettin' to the black hoss fast. I'm watchin' the +distance to go 'n' all of a sudden I furgets where I am—. +</P> + +<P> +"'He wins sure as hell!' I hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, will he?' says a voice. I looks up 'n' there's Miss Livingston +sittin' on her hoss, her fists doubled up 'n' her face whiter'n chalk. +</P> + +<P> +"About ten len'ths from the finish Rainbow gets to the black 'n' they +look each other in the eye. But them long jumps of the thoroughbred +breaks the hunter's heart, 'n' Rainbow comes away, 'n' wins by a +len'th.… +</P> + +<P> +"After I've cooled Rainbow out, 'n' bandaged his knees at the club +stables, I starts fur home with him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm just leavin' the main road, to take the short cut, when Miss +Livingston gallops by, with a groom trailin'. She looks up the +cross-road, sees me 'n' the hoss, 'n' reins in. She says somethin' to +the groom 'n' he goes on. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Livingston comes up the crossroad alone, 'n' stops when she gets to +us. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is that Rainbow?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Help me down, please,' she says. I tries to do it, but I don't make a +good job of it. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're not a lady's groom?' she says, smilin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'No'm,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I should like to pat the winner;' she says. 'May I?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Go as far as you like,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I beg pardon?' she says, lookin' at me funny. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm, you can pat him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"She takes Rainbow by the head, 'n' sort of hugs it, 'n' rubs the tips of +her fingers over his eyelids. Then she whispers to him, but I hears it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Old precious!' she says. 'I've always loved Rainbows! Do you bring a +fair day, too?' +</P> + +<P> +"Just then a black auto sneaks around the bend of the main road, 'n' Mr. +Van's drivin' it. He sees us, stops, 'n' comes up the side road to where +we are. She don't hear him till he's right close. Then she backs away +from Rainbow. +</P> + +<P> +"'I thought you might become tired of your sudden interest in hunting, +Mr. Van Voast,' she says. 'And I should like to own this horse—I was +just looking at him,' she tries to say it haughty, but it don't seem to +scare him none. He looks at her steady. +</P> + +<P> +"'If I give you a rainbow, will you give me its equivalent?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'A pot of gold? Yes— How much will you take?' she says, but she don't +look at him no more. +</P> + +<P> +"'A pot of gold is at the end,' he says. 'This is the beginning, +dear.… I want a promise.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That would be a fair exchange, would it not?' she says, 'n' looks up at +him. I never see eyes look like that before. They puts me in mind of +when the band's playin' as the hosses go to the post fur the Kentucky +Derby. +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister,' says Mr. Van, 'show the horses the view over the hill; +they'll enjoy it.' +</P> + +<P> +"I'm on my way in a hurry, but hears her say: +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, Billy, not here!' +</P> + +<P> +"They don't come along fur half an hour. When they does, Mr. Van says to +me: +</P> + +<P> +"'Lead Rainbow to the Livingston stables, Blister. He has a new owner.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Does you get a good price fur him?' I says, like I don't tumble to +nothin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'What a remarkable groom!' says Miss Livingston. +</P> + +<P> +"'Isn't he?' says Mr. Van. Then he comes 'n' grabs me by the mitt. +'Don't worry about the price, old boy,' he says. 'No horse ever brought +so much before!'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SALVATION +</H3> + + +<P> +At the invitation of Blister Jones I had come from the city's heat to +witness the morning "work-outs". For two hours horse after horse had +shot by, leaving a golden dust-cloud to hang and drift and slowly +settle. +</P> + +<P> +It was fairly cool under the big tree by the track fence, and the click +of Blister's stop-watch, with his varied comments on what those clicks +recorded, drifted out of my consciousness much as had the dust-clouds. +Even the thr-rump, thr-rump, thr-rump of flying hoofs—crescendo, +fortissimo, diminuendo—finally became meaningless. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's one bred to suit you!" rasped a nasal voice, and I sat up, half +awake, to observe a tall man lead a thorough-bred on to the track and +dexterously "throw" a boy into the tiny saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" Blister questioned. +</P> + +<P> +"He's by Salvation," explained the tall man. "Likely-lookin' colt, +ain't he? Think he favors the old hoss any?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Bout the head he does," Blister answered. "He won't girt as big as +the old hoss did at the same age." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if he's half as good as his daddy he's some hoss at that," the +tall man stated, as he started up the track, watch in hand. +</P> + +<P> +Blister followed the colt with his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Ever hear of Salvation?" he finally asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," I replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I brings out Salvation as a three-year-old, 'n' what happens is +quite a bunch of chatter—want to hear it?" +</P> + +<P> +"You know it," I said, dropping into Blister's vernacular. +</P> + +<P> +"That's pretty good for you," he said, grinning at my slang. "Well, to +begin with, I'm in Loueyville. It's in the fall, 'n' I'm just back +from Sheepshead. One way 'n' another I've had a good year. I'm down +on two or three live ones when the odds are right, 'n' I've grabbed off +a bundle I ain't ashamed to flash in any kind of company. +</P> + +<P> +"My string's been shipped South, 'n' I thinks I'll knock around +Kentucky fur a couple of weeks, 'n' see if I can't pick up some hosses +to train. +</P> + +<P> +"One mawnin' I'm in the Gait House, lookin' fur a hossman that's +stoppin' there, 'n' I see Peewee Simpson settin' in the lobby like he'd +just bought the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who left the door open?' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's still open, I see,' says Peewee, lookin' at me. +</P> + +<P> +"We exchanges a few more remarks, 'n' then Peewee tells me he's come to +Loueyville to buy some yearlin's fur ole man Harris. +</P> + +<P> +"'There's a dispersal sale to-morrow at the Goodloe farm,' says Peewee. +''N' I hear there's some real nice stuff going under the hammer. +General Goodloe croaked this spring. They cleaned him in a cotton deal +last year 'n' now their goin' to sell the whole works—studs, brood +mares, colts—everything; plows, too—you want a plow? All you need is +a plow 'n' a mule to put you where you belong.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Where's this farm at?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Over in Franklin County,' says Peewee. 'I'm goin' over—want to go +'long?' +</P> + +<P> +"'You're on,' I says. 'I'm not particular who travels with me any +more.' +</P> + +<P> +"We gets off the train next mawnin' at a little burg called Goodloe, +'n' there's three or four niggers with three or four ratty-lookin' ole +rigs to drive hossmen out to the sale. It's a fierce drive, 'n' the +springs is busted on our rig. I thinks we'll never get there, 'n' I +begins to cuss Peewee fur bringin' me. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you got to kick at?' says Peewee. 'Ain't you gettin' a free +ride? Cheer up—think of all the nice plows you're goin' to see.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You take them plows to hell 'n' make furrows in the cinders with +'em,' I says, wonderin' if I can get a train back to Loueyville anyways +soon. +</P> + +<P> +"But when we gets to the farm I'm glad I come. Man, that was some +farm! Miles of level blue-grass pasture, with white fences cuttin' it +up into squares, barns 'n' paddocks 'n' sheds, all painted white, just +scattered around by the dozen. There's a track to work hosses on, too, +but it's pretty much growed up with weeds. The main house is back in +some big trees. It's brick 'n' has two porches, one on top of the +other, all the way around it. +</P> + +<P> +"The sale is just startin' when we get there. The auctioneer is in the +judge's stand at the track 'n' the hosses is showed in the stretch. +</P> + +<P> +"The first thing to sell is brood mares, 'n' they're as good a lot as I +ever looks over. I loses Peewee in the crowd, 'n' climbs on to a shed +roof to see better. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty soon here comes a real ole nigger leadin' a mare that looks to +be about as old as the nigger. At that she showed class. Her head's +still fine, 'n' her legs ain't got so much as a pimple on 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"'Number eleven in your catalogues, gentlemen!' says the auctioneer. +'Mary Goodloe by Victory, first dam Dainty Maid by—what's the use of +tellin' you <I>her</I> breedin', you <I>all</I> know <I>her</I>! Gentlemen,' he says, +'how many of you can say you ever owned a Kentucky Derby winner? Well, +here's your chance to own one! This mare won the derby in—er— +</P> + +<P> +"'Eighty-three, suh—I saw her do it,' says a man with a white mustache. +</P> + +<P> +"'Eighty-three, thank you, Colonel. You have a fine memory,' says the +auctioneer. 'I saw her do it, too. Now, gentlemen,' he says, 'what am +I offered for this grand old mare? She's the dam of six winners—three +of 'em stake hosses. Kindly start the bidding.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Twenty dollahs!' says the ole nigger who has hold of the mare. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fifty!' says some one else. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hole on dah,' sings out the ole nigger. 'I'se just 'bliged to tell +you folks I'se pu'chasin' dis hyar mare fo' Miss Sally Goodloe!' +</P> + +<P> +"The auctioneer looks at the guy who bids fifty. +</P> + +<P> +"'I withdraw that bid,' says the guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Sold to you for twenty dollars, Uncle Jake,' says the auctioneer. +'Bring on number twelve!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Hyah's yo' twenty dollahs,' says the ole nigger, fishin' out a roll +of raggedy bills and passin' 'em up to the stand. +</P> + +<P> +"'Thank you, Uncle Jake. Come to the clerk for your bill of sale this +evenin',' says the auctioneer. +</P> + +<P> +"I watches the sale a while longer, 'n' then mooches into the big barn +where the yearlin's 'n' two-year-olds is waitin' to be sold. They're a +nice lot of colts, but I ain't interested in this young stuff—colts is +too much of a gamble fur me. Only about one in fifty'll make good. +Somebody else can spend their money on 'em at that kind of odds. +</P> + +<P> +"I goes out of the colt barn 'n' begins to ramble around, lampin' +things in general. I comes to a shed full of plows, 'n' I has to laugh +when I sees 'em. I'm standin' there with a grin on my face when a +nigger comes 'round the shed 'n' sees me lookin' at them plows. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fine plows, sah, an' vehy cheap,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Do I look like I needs a plow?' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'No, sah,' says the nigger, lookin' me over. 'I cyant rightly say you +favohs plowin', but howkum you ain' tendin' de sale?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't see nothin' over there that suits me,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"The nigger is sore in a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'You is suttanly hahd to please, white man,' he says. 'Ain' no finah +colts in Kaintucky dan dem.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That may be so, but how about Tennessee?' I says, just to get him +goin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tennessee! Tennessee!' he says. 'What you talkin' 'bout? Why, <I>we</I> +does de fahm wuck wid likelier colts dan <I>dey</I> sends to de races.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I've seed some nifty babies down there,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Look-a-hyar, man!' he says, 'you want to see a colt what am a colt?' +</P> + +<P> +"'How far?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'No ways at all, jus' over yondah,' says the nigger. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lead me to it,' I say to him, 'n' he takes me over to a long lane +with paddocks down each side of it. All the paddocks is empty but two. +In the first one is the ole mare, Mary Goodloe; 'n' next to her is a +slashin' big chestnut colt. +</P> + +<P> +"'Cast yo' eyes on dat one!' says the nigger. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't say nothin' fur five minutes. I just looks at that colt. I +never sees one like him before, nor since. There's some dead leaves +blowin' around the paddock 'n' he's jumpin' on 'em with his front feet +like a setter pup playin'. Two jumps 'n' he's clear across the +paddock! His shoulders 'n' quarters 'n' legs is made to order. His +head 'n' throat-latch is clean as a razor, 'n' he's the proudest thing +that ever stood on four legs. He looks to be comin' three, but he's +muscled like a five-year-old. +</P> + +<P> +"'How 'bout him, boss?' says the nigger after a while. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' I says, 'they broke the mold when they made that one!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Dar's de mold,' he says, pointin' to the ole mare in the next +paddock. 'She's his mammy. Dat's Mahey Goodloe, named fo' ole Miss +Goodloe what's dade. Dat mare win de derby. Dis hyar colt's by +impo'ted Calabash.' +</P> + +<P> +"'When does this colt sell?' I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"'He ain' fo' sale,' says the nigger. 'De estate doan own him. De +General done gib him to Miss Sally when de colt's bohn.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Where's she at now?' I says to the nigger. I had to own that colt if +my roll could reach him—I knowed that 'fore I'd looked at him a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'Up to de house, mos' likely,' says the nigger. 'You'd better save +yo' shoe leather, boss. She ain' gwine to sell dat colt no matter what +happens.' +</P> + +<P> +"I beats it up to the big house, but when I gets there I see nobody's +livin' in it. The windows has boards across 'em. I looks in between +the cracks 'n' sees a whale of a room. Hangin' from the ceilin' is two +things fur lights all covered with glass dingles. They ain't nothin' +else in the room but a tall mirror, made of gold, that goes clear to +the ceilin'. I walks clean around the house, but it's sure empty, so I +oozes back to the barns 'n' collars the sales clerk. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm a-lookin' fur Miss Goodloe,' I tells him. 'A nigger says she's +at the house, but I've just been up there 'n' they ain't even furniture +in it.' +</P> + +<P> +"'No,' says the clerk; 'the furniture was sold to a New York collector +two weeks ago. Miss Goodloe is livin' in the head trainer's house +across the road yonder. She won't have that long, I don't reckon, +though I did hear she's fixin' to buy it when the farm sells, with some +money ole Mrs. Goodloe left her.' +</P> + +<P> +"I goes over to the little house the clerk points out, 'n' knocks. A +right fat nigger woman, with her sleeves rolled up, comes to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you want?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I want to see Miss Goodloe,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You cyant see her. She ain' seein' nobody,' says the nigger woman, +'n' starts to shut the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait a minute, aunty," I says. 'I got to see her—it's business, +sure-enough business.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Doan you aunty me!' says she. 'Now, you take yo' bisniss with you +an' ramble! Bisniss has done sole off eve'y stick an' stone we got! I +doan want to hyar no mo' 'bout bisniss long as I live'—'n' bang goes +the door. +</P> + +<P> +"I waits a minute 'n' then knocks again—nothin' doin'. I knocks fur +five minutes steady. Pretty soon here she comes, but this time she's +got a big brass-handled poker with her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ef I has to clout you ovah de haid wid dis pokah you ain' gwine to +transack no mo' bisniss fo' a tollable long time!' she says. She's mad +all right, 'n' she hollers this at me pretty loud. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fore I can say anythin' a dame steps out in the hall 'n' looks at me +'n' the nigger woman 'n' the poker. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the matter, Liza?' she says to the nigger woman, 'n' her voice +is good to listen at. You don't care what she says, just so she keeps +a-sayin' it. She's got on a white dress with black fixin's on it, 'n' +she just suits her dress, 'cause her hair is dark 'n' her face is +white, 'n' she has great big eyes that put me in mind of—I don't know +what! She ain't very tall, but she makes me feel littler'n her when +she looks at me. She's twenty-four or five, mebby, but I'm a bum +guesser at a dame's age. +</P> + +<P> +"'Dis pusson boun' he gwine to see you an' I boun' he ain', Miss +Sally,' says the nigger woman. The little dame comes out on the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"'I am Miss Goodloe,' she says to me. 'What do you wish?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I want to buy a hoss from you, ma'am,' I says to her. +</P> + +<P> +"'The horses are being sold across the way at that biggest barn,' she +says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm,' I says, 'I've just come from there. I—' +</P> + +<P> +"'Have you been watching the sale?' she says, breakin' in. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm—some,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Liza, you may go to your kitchen now,' she says. 'Can you tell me if +they have sold the mare, Mary Goodloe, yet?' she says to me when the +nigger woman's gone. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm, she was sold,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"She flinches like I'd hit her 'n' I see her chin begin to quiver, but +she bites her lip 'n' I looks off down the road to give her a chance. +Pretty soon she's back fur more. I'm feelin' like a hound. +</P> + +<P> +"'Do you know who bought her?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'A nigger man they call Uncle Jake buys her,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Uncle Jake!' she says. 'Are you sure? Was he an old man with poor +eyesight?' +</P> + +<P> +"'He was old all right,' I says. 'But I don't notice about his eyes. +He give twenty dollars fur her.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Is that all she brought?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n' +tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She +stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see +eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark. +</P> + +<P> +"'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile. +</P> + +<P> +"'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find +Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?' +</P> + +<P> +"'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns… I +finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right—he can't hardly +see. He's got rheumatism, too—he's all crippled up with it. When I +gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do +you know?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss +Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she +look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make +some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' nobody want her. Hit +look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole—he doan' know what to do zakly. +Hit's gittin' mighty 'bahassin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr. +Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be +willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer +am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de +'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's +howkum ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' <I>nobody</I> gwine +to take her away fum you, honey!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your twenty dollars you got +for that tobacco you raised?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ain' I tole you 'bout dat, Miss Sally? Dat mis'able money done skip +out an' leave thoo a hole in ma pocket,' says Uncle Jake, 'n' pulls one +of his pants pockets inside out. Sure enough, there's a big hole in it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Didn't I give you a safety-pin to pin that money in your inside coat +pocket?' says Miss Goodloe. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yess'm, dat's right,' he says. 'But I'se countin' de money one day +an' a span ob mules broke loose an' stahts lickety-brindle fo' de bahn, +an' aimin' to ketch de mules, I pokes de money in de pocket wid de +hole. I ain' neber see dat no-'coun' money sence.' +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Goodloe looks at the ole nigger fur a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"'Uncle Jake … oh, Uncle Jake …' she says. '<I>These</I> are the +things I just <I>can't</I> stand!' Her eyes fill up, 'n' while she bites her +lip agin, it ain't no use. Two big tears roll down her cheeks. 'I'll +see you in a moment,' she says to me, 'n' goes inside. +</P> + +<P> +"'Bad times! Bad times, pow'ful bad times!' says Uncle Jake, 'n' +hobbles away a-mutterin' to hisself. +</P> + +<P> +"It's begun to get under my skin right. I'm feelin' queer, 'n' I gets +to thinkin' I'd better beat it. 'Don't be a damn fool!' I says to +myself. 'You ain't had nothin' to do with the cussed business 'n' you +can't help it none. If you don't buy this colt somebody else will.' +So I sets on the edge of the porch 'n' waits. It ain't so long till +Miss Goodloe comes out again. I gets up 'n' takes off my hat. +</P> + +<P> +"'What horse do you wish to buy?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'A big chestnut colt by Calabash, dam Mary Goodloe,' I says. 'They +tell me you own him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, I <I>can't</I> sell <I>him</I>!' she says, backin' towards the door. 'No +one has ever ridden him but me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Is he fast?' I asks her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Of course,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is he mannered?' I asks. +</P> + +<P> +"'Perfectly,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He ain't never seen a barrier, I suppose?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's broken to the barrier,' she says then. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who schools him?' I says. 'You tells me nobody's been on him but +you—' +</P> + +<P> +"'I schooled him at the barrier with the other two-year-olds,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Whee!' I says. 'You must be able to ride some.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you sure you won't sell him?' I asks her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Positive,' she says, 'n' I see she means it. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Don't you know it's wicked +not to give that colt a chance to show what he can do?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I know it is,' she says. 'But I have no money for training expenses.' +</P> + +<P> +"I studies a minute, 'n' all of a sudden it comes to me. 'You were +just achin' to help this little dame a while ago,' I says to myself. +'Here's a chance … be a sport!' The colt <I>might</I> make good, 'n' +she could use a thousand or so awful easy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Miss Goodloe,' I says out loud, 'I might as well tell you I'm in love +with that colt.' She gives me a real sweet smile. +</P> + +<P> +"'Isn't he a darling?' she says, her face lightin' up. +</P> + +<P> +"'That isn't the way I'd put it,' I says, 'but I guess we mean the +same. Now, I'm a race-hoss trainer. You read these letters from +people I'm workin' fur, 'n' then I'll tell you what I want to do.' I +fishes out a bunch of letters from my pocket 'n' she sets down on the +steps 'n' begins to read 'em solemn as owls. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why do they call you Blister?' she asks, lookin' up from a letter. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's a nickname,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh,' she says, 'n' goes on readin'. When she gets through she hands +the letters to me. 'They seem to have a lot of confidence in you, +Blis—Mr. Jones,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Stick to Blister,' I says, ''n' I'll always come when I'm called.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Very well, Blister,' she says. 'Now, why did you wish me to read +those letters?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I asks you to read them letters, because I got a hunch that colt's a +winner, 'n' I want to take a chance on him,' I says. 'I got a string +of hosses at New Awlins—now, you let me ship that colt down there 'n' +I'll get him ready. I'll charge you seventy-five a month to be paid +out his winnings. If he don't win—no charge. Is it a go?' She don't +say nothin' fur quite a while. 'I sees a dozen hossmen I knows over at +the sale,' I says. 'If you want recommends I can get any of 'em to +come over 'n' speak to you about me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'No, I feel that you are trustworthy,' she says, 'n' goes to studyin' +some more. 'What I should like to know,' she says after while, 'is +this: Do trainers make a practise of taking horses at the same terms +you have just offered me?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure they do,' I lies, lookin' her in the eye. 'Any trainer'll take +a chance on a promisin' colt.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you certain?' she asks me, earnest. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm, dead certain,' I says. She don't say nothin' fur maybe five +minutes, then she gets up 'n' looks at me steady. +</P> + +<P> +"'You may take him,' she says, 'n' walks into the house. +</P> + +<P> +"I finds Uncle Jake 'n' eases him two bucks. It sure helps his +rheumatism. He gets as spry as a two-year-old. He tells me there's a +train at nine that evenin'. I sends him to the depot to fix it so I +can take the colt to Loueyville in the express car, 'n' he says he'll +get back quick as he can. I hunts up Peewee, but he's goin' to stay +all night, 'cause the yearlin's won't sell till next day.… +</P> + +<P> +"The sun's goin' down when we starts fur the depot, Uncle Jake drivin', +'n' me settin' behind, leadin' the colt. The sunlight's red, 'n' when +it hits that chestnut colt he shines like copper. Say, but he was some +proud peacock! +</P> + +<P> +"I sends word to Miss Goodloe we're comin', 'n' she's waitin' at the +gate. The colt nickers when he sees her, 'n' she comes 'n' takes the +lead strap from me. Then she holds up her finger at the colt. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, Boy-baby!' she says. 'Everything depends on you—you're all +mammy has in the world … will you do your best for her sake?' The +colt paws 'n' arches his neck. 'See, he says he will!' she says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's his name?' I asks her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, dear, he hasn't any!' she says. 'I've always called him +Boy-baby.' +</P> + +<P> +"'He can't race under that,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Between now and the time he starts I'll think of a name for him,' she +says. 'Do you really believe he can win?' +</P> + +<P> +"'They tell me his dam wins twenty thousand the first year she raced,' +I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He'd be our salvation if he did that,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'There's a name,' I says. 'Call him Salvation!' She says over it two +or three times. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's not a bad racing name, is it?' she asks me. +</P> + +<P> +"'No'm,' I says. 'That's a good name.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Very well, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt. 'I christen thee +<I>Salvation</I>, with this lump of sugar. That's a fine name! Always bear +it bravely.' She puts her arms around the colt's neck 'n' kisses him +on the nose. Then she hands me the lead strap 'n' steps aside. +'Good-by, and good luck!' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"When we turns the bend, way down the road, she's still standin' there +watchin' us … +</P> + +<P> +"I sends the colt down with a swipe, 'n' he's been at the track a week +when I gets to New Awlins. The boys have begun to talk 'bout him +already, he's such a grand looker. He don't give me no trouble at all. +He's quiet 'n' kind 'n' trustin'. Nothin' gets him excited, 'n' I +begins to be afraid he'll be a sluggard. It don't take me long to see +he won't do fur the sprints—distance is what he likes. He's got a big +swingin' gallop that sure fools me at first. He never seems to be +tryin' a lick. When he's had two months prep. I has my exercise-boy +let him down fur a full mile. Man! he <I>just gallops</I> in <I>forty flat</I>! +Then I know I've got somethin'! +</P> + +<P> +"His first race I'm as nervous as a dame. I don't bet a dollar on him +fur fear I'll queer it. Anyway, he ain't a good price—you can't keep +him under cover, he's too flashy-lookin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he comes home alone, just playin' along, the jock lookin' back +at the bunch. +</P> + +<P> +"'How much has he got left?' I says to the jock after the race. +</P> + +<P> +"'Him!' says the jock. 'Enough to beat anybody's hoss!' +</P> + +<P> +"I starts him the next week, 'n' he repeats, but it ain't till his +<I>third</I> race that I know fur sure he's a great hoss, with a racin' +heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Sweeney has the mount, 'n' he don't get him away good—the colt's +layin' a bad seventh at the quarter. Banjo's out in front, away +off—'n' she's a real good mare. That pin-head Sweeney don't make a +move till the stretch, then he tries to come from seventh all at +once … 'n' by God, he does it! That colt comes from nowhere to the +Banjo mare while they're goin' an eighth! The boy on Banjo goes to the +bat, but the colt just gallops on by 'n' breezes in home. +</P> + +<P> +"'You bum!' I says to Sweeney. 'What kind of a trip do you call that? +Did you get off 'n' shoot a butsy at the stretch bend?' +</P> + +<P> +"'If I has a match I would,' says Sweeney. 'I kin smoke it easy, 'n' +then <I>back</I> in ahead of them turtles.' +</P> + +<P> +"I know then the colt's good enough fur the stakes, 'n' I writes Miss +Goodloe to see if I can use the fourteen hundred he's won to make the +first payments. She's game as a pebble, 'n' says to stake him the +limit. So I enters him from New Awlins to Pimlico. +</P> + +<P> +"I've had all kinds of offers fur the colt, but I always tell 'em +nothin' doin'. One day a lawyer named Jack Dillon, who owns a big +stock farm near Lexington, comes to me 'n' says he wants to buy him. +</P> + +<P> +"'He ain't fur sale,' I tells him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Everything's for sale at a price,' he says. 'Now I want that colt +worse than I do five thousand. What do you say?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I ain't sayin' nothin',' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'How does eight thousand look to you?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Big,' I says. 'But you'll have to see Miss Goodloe at Goodloe, +Kentucky, if you want this colt.' +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, General Goodloe's daughter,' he says. 'Does she own him? When I +go back next week I'll drop over and see her.' +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Salvation starts in the Crescent City Derby, 'n' when he comes +under the wire Miss Goodloe's five thousand bucks better off. He wins +another stake, 'n' then I ship him with the rest of my string to +Nashville. The second night we're there, here comes Jack Dillon to the +stall with a paper bag in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"'You didn't get the colt?' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'No,' he says. 'I didn't get anything … I lost something.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Never mind what,' he says. 'Here, put this bag of sugar where I can +get at it. She told me to feed him two lumps a day.' +</P> + +<P> +"After that he comes every evenin' 'n' gives the colt sugar, but he's +poor company. He just stands lookin' at the colt. Half the time he +don't hear what I say to him. +</P> + +<P> +"The colt wins the Nashville Derby, 'n' then I ships him to Loueyville +for the Kentucky. We want him to win <I>that</I> more'n all the rest, but +as luck goes, he ketches cold shippin', 'n' he can't start. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Goodloe comes over to Loueyville one mawnin' to see him. She +gets through huggin' him after while, 'n' sets down in a chair by the +stall door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"So I tells her every move the colt makes since I has him. +</P> + +<P> +"'How did he happen to catch cold?' she asks. +</P> + +<P> +"'Constitution undermined,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh! How dreadful!' she says. 'What caused it?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sugar,' I says, never crackin' a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"She flushes up, 'n' I see she knows what I mean, but she don't ask no +more questions. Before she leaves, Miss Goodloe tells me she'll come +to Cincinnati if the colt's well enough to start in the Latonia Derby. +</P> + +<P> +"I ships to Cincinnati. About noon derby day I'm watchin' the swipes +workin' on the colt. He's favorite fur the Latonia 'n' there's mebby a +hundred boobs in front of the stall rubberin' at him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Please let dis lady pass,' I hears some one say, 'n' here comes Liza +helpin' Miss Goodloe through the crowd. When Liza sees me I ducks 'n' +holds up my arm like I'm dodgin' somethin'. She grins till her mouth +looks like a tombstone factory. +</P> + +<P> +"'I clean fohgot to bring dat pokah wid me,' she says. 'Hyar you is, +Miss Sally.' +</P> + +<P> +"I don't hardly know Miss Goodloe. There's nothin' like race day to +get a dame goin'. Her eyes are shinin' 'n' her cheeks are pink, 'n' +she don't look more'n sixteen. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt, 'you've grown to be such a +wonderful person I can't believe it's you!' The colt knows it's race +day 'n' he don't pay much attention to her. 'Oh, Boy-baby!' says Miss +Goodloe, 'I'm afraid you've had your head turned … you don't even +notice your own mammy!' +</P> + +<P> +"'His head ain't turned, it's full of race,' I says to her. He'll come +down to earth after he gets that mile-'n'-a-quarter under his belt.' +</P> + +<P> +"When the bugle blows, Miss Goodloe asks me to stay in her box with her +while the derby's run. There's twenty thousand people there 'n' I +guess the whole bunch has bet on the colt, from the way it sounds when +the hosses parade past. You can't hear nothin' but '<I>Salva-a-tion! +Oh, you Salva-a-tion</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"They get a nice break all in a line, but when they come by the stand +the first time, the colt's layin' at the rail a len'th in front, +fightin' fur his head. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>Salva-a-tion</I>!' goes up from the stands in one big yell. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>There he goes</I>!' hollers some swipe across the track, 'n' then +everything is quiet. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Goodloe's got her fingers stuck into my arm till it hurts. But +that don't bother me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Isn't it wonderful?' she says, but the pink's gone out of her cheeks. +She's real pale … +</P> + +<P> +"They never get near the colt.… He comes home alone with that big +easy, swingin' gallop of his, 'n' goes under the wire still fightin' +fur his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Then that crowd goes plumb crazy! Men throws their hats away, 'n' +dances around, yellin' till they can't whisper! Miss Goodloe is +shakin' so I has to hold her up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Isn't he <I>grand</I>? How would you like to own him?' a woman in the +next box says to her. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd love it,' says Miss Goodloe, 'n' busts out cryin'. 'You'll think +I'm an awful baby!' she says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't mind them kind of tears,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Neither do I,' she says, laughin', 'n' dabbin' at her face with a +dinky little hankerchiff. +</P> + +<P> +"I wait till they lead the colt out in front of the stand, 'n' put the +floral horseshoe round his neck, then I takes Miss Goodloe down to +shake hands with the jock. +</P> + +<P> +"'How do you like him?' she says to the jock. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, ma'am,' he says, 'I've ridden all the good ones, but he's the +best hoss I ever has under me!' +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the record fur this race?' I yells across the track to the +timer. He points down at the time hung up. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's it!' he hollers back. +</P> + +<P> +"'Didn't he do it easy?' says the jock to me. +</P> + +<P> +"There's no use to tell you what Salvation done to them Eastern hosses; +everybody knows about that. It got so the ginnies would line up in a +bunch, every time he starts, 'n' holler: '<I>They're off—there he +goes</I>!' They does it regular, 'n' pretty soon the crowds get next 'n' +then everybody does it. He begins to stale off at Pimlico, so I ships +him to Miss Goodloe, 'n' writes her to turn him out fur three or four +months. +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't a year from the time we leaves Miss Goodloe standin' in the +road till then. Salvation wins his every start. He's copped off forty +thousand bucks. I guess that's goin' some! +</P> + +<P> +"When the season closes I goes through Kentucky on my way South, 'n' I +takes a jump over from Loueyville to see the colt. Miss Goodloe's +bought a hundred acres around her little house, 'n' the colt's turned +out in a nice bluegrass field. We're standin' watchin' him, when she +puts somethin' in my pocket. I fishes it out 'n' it's a check fur five +thousand bucks. +</P> + +<P> +"'I've been paid what's comin' to me,' I says. 'Nothin' like this +goes.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, yes, it does!' she says. 'I have investigated since you told me +that <I>story</I>. Trainers do <I>not</I> pay expenses on other people's horses. +Now, put that back in your pocket or I will be mortally offended.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't need it,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Neither do I,' she says. 'I haven't told you—guess what I've been +offered for Salvation?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I give it up,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Fifty thousand dollars,' she says. 'What do you think of that?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you goin' to sell?' I asks her. +</P> + +<P> +"'Certainly not,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He'll earn twice that in the stud,' I says. 'Who makes you the +offer—Mr. Dillon?' +</P> + +<P> +"'No, a New York man,' she says. 'I guess Mr. Dillon has lost interest +in him.' +</P> + +<P> +"I guess he hasn't,' I says. 'I seen him at Pimlico, 'n' he was worse +'n ever.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Did—did he still feed him sugar?' she says, but she don't look at me +while she's gettin' it out. +</P> + +<P> +"'You bet he did,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Shall you see him again?' she asks me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes'm, I'll see him at New Awlins,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You may tell him,' she says, her face gettin' pink, 'that as far as +my horse is concerned I haven't changed my mind.' +</P> + +<P> +"On the way back to the house I gets to thinkin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm goin' round to the kitchen 'n' say hello to Aunt Liza,' I says to +Miss Goodloe. +</P> + +<P> +"Liza's glad to see me this time—mighty glad. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hyah's a nice hot fried cake fo' you, honey,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'This ain't no fried cake,' I says. 'This is a doughnut.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You ain' tryin' to tell <I>me</I> what a fried cake is, is you?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aunt Liza,' I says to her while I'm eatin' the doughnut, 'I sees Mr. +Jack Dillon after he's been here, 'n' he acts like he'd had a bad time. +Did you take a poker to him, too?' +</P> + +<P> +"'No, sah,' she says. 'Miss Sally tended to his case.' +</P> + +<P> +"'It's too bad she don't like him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who say she doan' like him?' says Liza. 'He come a sto'min' round +hyah like he gwine to pull de whole place up by de roots an' transport +hit ovah Lexington way. Fust he's boun' fo' to take dat hoss what's +done win all dem good dollahs. Den his min' flit f'om dat to Miss +Sally, an' he's aimin' to cyar her off like she was a 'lasses bar'l or +a yahd ob calico. Who is dem Dillons, anyway? De Goodloes owned big +lan' right hyar in Franklin County when de Dillons ain' nothin' but +Yankee trash back in Maine or some other outlan'ish place! Co'se we +sends him 'bout his bisniss—him an' his money! Ef he comes roun' +hyar, now we's rich again, an' sings small fo' a while. Miss Sally +mighty likely to listen to what he got to say—she so kindly dat a-way.' +</P> + +<P> +"At the depot in Goodloe that night I writes a wire to Jack Dillon. +'If you still want Salvation better come to Goodloe,' is what the wire +says. I signs it 'n' sends it 'n' takes the train fur New Awlins. +</P> + +<P> +"The colt ruptures a tendon not long after that, so he never races no +more, 'n' I ain't never been to Goodloe since." +</P> + +<P> +Blister yawned, lay back on the grass and pulled his hat over his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Salvation alive now?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure he's alive!" The words come muffled from beneath the hat. "He's +at the head of Judge Dillon's stock farm over near Lexington." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm surprised Miss Goodloe sold him," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"She don't … sell him," Blister muttered drowsily. "Mrs. +Dillon … still … owns him." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A TIP IN TIME +</H3> + + +<P> +Blister was silent as we left the theater. I had chosen the play +because I had fancied it would particularly appeal to him. The name +part—a characterization of a race-horse tout—had been acceptably done +by a competent young actor. The author had hewn as close to realism as +his too clever lines would permit. There had been a wealth of +Blister's own vernacular used on the stage during the evening, and I +had rather enjoyed it all. But Blister, it was now evident, had been +disappointed. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't like it?" I said tentatively, as I steered him toward the +blazing word "Rathskeller," a block down the street. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I've seed worse shows," was the unenthusiastic reply. "I can get +an earful of that kind of chatter dead easy without pryin' myself loose +from any kale," he added. +</P> + +<P> +I saw where the trouble lay. The terse expressive jargon of the race +track, its dry humor just beneath its hard surface, might delight the +unsophisticated, but not Blister. To him it lacked in novelty. +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't been in one of these here rats ketchers fur quite a while," +said Blister, as we descended the steps beneath the flambuoyant sign. +"Do you go to shows much?" he asked, when two steins were between us on +the flemish oak board. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a great deal," I replied. "I did dramatics—wrote up shows—for +two years and that rather destroyed my enjoyment of the theater." +</P> + +<P> +"I got you," said Blister. "Seein' so much of it spoils you fur it. +That's me, too. I won't cross the street to see a show when I'm on the +stage." +</P> + +<P> +Had he suddenly announced himself king of the Cannibal Islands I would +have looked and felt about as then. I gazed at him with dropping jaw. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I ain't bugs!" he grinned, as he saw my expression. "I'm on the +stage quite a while. Ain't I never told you?" +</P> + +<P> +"You certainly have not," I said emphatically. +</P> + +<P> +"I goes on the stage just because I starts to cuss a dog I owns one +day," said Blister. "It's the year they pull off one of these here +panic things, and believe me the kale just fades from view! It you +borrow a rub-rag, three ginnies come along to bring it back when you're +through. If you happens to mention you ain't got your makin's with +you, the nearest guy to you'll call the police. They wouldn't have a +hoss trained that could run a mile in nothin'. +</P> + +<P> +"A dog out on grass don't cost but two bucks a month. It seems like +the men I'm workin' fur all remembers this at once. When I'm through +followin' shippin' instructions I'm down to one mutt, 'n' I owns him +myself. He's some hoss—I don't think. He's got a splint big as a +turkey egg that keeps him ouchy in front half the time, 'n' his heart +ain't in the right place. I've filled his old hide so full of hop you +could knock his eyes off with a club, tryin' to make him cop, but he +won't come through—third is the best he'll do. +</P> + +<P> +"One day about noon I'm standin' lookin' in the stall door, watchin' +him mince over his oats. They ain't nothin' good about this dog—not +even his appetite. I ain't had a real feed myself fur three days, 'n' +when I sees this ole counterfeit mussin' over his grub I opens up on +him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you last year's bird's nest!' I says to him. 'What th' hell +right have you got to be fussy with your eats? They ain't a oat in +that box but what out-classes you—they've all growed faster'n you can +run! The only thing worse'n you is a ticket on you to win. If I pulls +your shoes off 'n' has my choice between you 'n' them—I takes the +shoes. If I wouldn't be pinched fur it I gives you to the first nut +they lets out of the bughouse—you sour-bellied-mallet-headed-yellow +pup! You cross between a canary 'n' a mud-turtle!' +</P> + +<P> +"That gets me sort-a warmed up, 'n' then I begins to really tell this +dog what the sad sea waves is sayin'. When I can't think of nothin' +more to call him, I stops. +</P> + +<P> +"'Outside of that he's all right, ain't he?' says some one behind me. +</P> + +<P> +"'No,' I says, 'he has other faults besides.' +</P> + +<P> +"I turns round 'n' there's a fat guy with a cigar in his face. He's +been standin' there listenin'. He's got a chunk of ice stuck in his +chest that you have to look at through smoked glasses. He's got +another one just as big on his south hook. Take him all 'n' all he +looks like the real persimmon. +</P> + +<P> +"'Do you own him?' says the fat guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'You've had no call to insult a stranger,' I says. 'But it's on me—I +owns him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm sorry you've got such a bad opinion of him,' he says. 'I was +thinkin' of buyin' him.' +</P> + +<P> +"I looks around fur this guy's keeper—they ain't nobody in sight. +</P> + +<P> +"'This ain't such a bad hoss,' I says. 'Them remarks you hears don't +mean nothin'. They're my regular pet names fur him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd like to be around once when you talk to a bad one,' says the guy. +'Now look a-here,' he says. 'I'll buy this horse, but get over all +thoughts of makin' a sucker out of me. What do you want for him? If +you try to stick me up—I'm gone. The woods is full of this kind. +Let's hear from you!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Fur a hundred I throws in a halter,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You've sold one,' says the guy, 'n' peels off five yellow men from a +big roll. +</P> + +<P> +"When I've got the kale safe in my clothes, I gets curious. +</P> + +<P> +"'What do you want with this hoss?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's to run on rollers in a racing scene,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' I says, 'some skates has rollers on 'em, maybe they'll help +this one. God knows he ain't any good with just legs!' +</P> + +<P> +"'He's plenty good enough for his act,' says the guy. 'And say, I want +another one like him, and a man to go on the road with 'em. Can you +put me wise?' +</P> + +<P> +"'How much would be crowded towards the party you want, Saturday +nights?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Twenty dollars and expenses,' says he. +</P> + +<P> +"'Make it thirty,' I says. 'Travelin's hard on them that loves their +home.' +</P> + +<P> +"'We'll split it,' he says. 'Twenty-five's the word.' +</P> + +<P> +"'My time's yours,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'How about the other horse?' says the fat guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'You'll own him in eight minutes,' I says. 'Stay here with Edwin +Booth till I get back.' +</P> + +<P> +"I hustles down the line 'n' finds Peewee Simpson washin' out +bandages—that's what he'd come to. +</P> + +<P> +"'You still got that sorrel hound?' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Nope,' says Peewee. 'He's got me. I'm takin' in washin' to support +him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Brace yourself fur a shock,' I says. 'I'll give you real money fur +him.' +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee looks at me fur a minute like you done a while ago. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't wake me up!' he says. 'I must—' then he stops 'n' takes +another slant at me. 'Say!' he says, 'I'll bet you've got next! I +ain't told you yet—who put you hep?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Hep to what?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, this hoss works a mile in forty yesterday,' says Peewee. 'I'm +goin' to cop with him next week.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Your work's coarse,' I says. 'The only way that dog goes a mile in +forty is in the baggage coach ahead. I'm in a hurry! Here's a hundred +fur the pup. Don't break a leg gettin' him out of the stall.' +</P> + +<P> +"I don't stop to answer Peewee's questions, but leads the hoss back to +the fat guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here's Salvini,' I says. 'He cost you a hundred.' +</P> + +<P> +"'S. R. O. for you,' says he, 'n' slips me the hundred. 'Now, take him +and Edwin Booth to the livery-stable round the corner from the Alhambra +Theater. Come to the Gilsey House at six o'clock and ask for me. My +name is Banks.' +</P> + +<P> +"'There's class to that name,' I says. 'It sure sounds good to me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Keep on your toes like you've done so far and it'll be as good as it +sounds,' says he. +</P> + +<P> +"That evenin' Banks tells me the dogs he's bought is fur a show called +<I>A Blue Grass Belle</I>. A dame is to ride one of 'em in the show, 'n' +I'm to ride the other. +</P> + +<P> +"'I've arranged to have the apparatus set up back of the +livery-stable,' says Banks, 'so you can rehearse the horses for their +act. When they know their parts I'll bring Pixley around and you can +work the act together. She was a rube before she hit the big town and +she says she can ride.' +</P> + +<P> +"Say, this dingus fur the hosses to run on is there like a duck. The +guy that thinks it up has a grand bean! You leads a hoss on to it 'n' +when it's ready you gives him the word. He starts to walk off, nothin' +doin', he ain't goin' nowhere. You fans him with the bat. 'I'll be on +my way,' he says. But he ain't got a chance—the faster he romps the +faster the dingus rolls out from under him. He can run a forty shot, +'n' he don't go no further 'n I can throw a piano! +</P> + +<P> +"After I've worked both dogs on the dingus fur a week or so, I tells +Banks they know the game—'n' believe me, they did! Why, them ole +hounds got so they begins to prance when they see the machine. They'd +lay down 'n' ramble till they dropped if I lets 'em. They liked it +fine! +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll send Pixley around to-morrow,' says Banks. 'I want you to teach +her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse.' +</P> + +<P> +"Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little +head out the back door of the livery-stable. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hello, kid,' she says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hello, girlie,' I says back. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>Miss Pixley</I>, if you <I>please</I>,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' I says. ''N' while we're at it Mr. Jones'll suit me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Fade away,' she says, 'n' I see she's got a couple of dimples. 'Mr. +Jones don't suit you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Make it Blister, then,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're on,' she says. 'And you can stick to girlie.' +</P> + +<P> +"Say, she was a great little dame; she makes a hit with me the first +dash out of the box. When it comes to ridin' she's game as a wasp. +She has on a long coat, 'n' I don't see what's underneath. +</P> + +<P> +"'Banks tells me you ride like a jock in the show,' I says. 'You can't +cut the mustard with that rig on.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure not, Simple Simon!' she says. 'Do you think this grows on me?' +She sheds the coat, 'n' I see she's got on leggins 'n' a pair of puffy +pants. +</P> + +<P> +"I throws her on to Salvini 'n' he begins to prance around, me holdin' +him by the head. +</P> + +<P> +"'Whoa, you big bum!' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Quit knocking my horse,' she says. 'Let go of him and see if I care.' +</P> + +<P> +"I turns him loose 'n' she lets him jump a few times 'n' then rides him +on to the machine. I see she knows her business so I stands beside her +'n' makes her sit him like she ought. It don't take her no time to get +wise. Pretty soon she's clear over with a hand on each side of his +withers, 'n' him goin' like a stake hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's the dope!' I hollers. I has to yell 'cause the ole hound is +makin' a fierce racket on the machine. +</P> + +<P> +"'I feel like a monkey on a stick,' she hollers back, but she don't +look like one. Her hair's shook loose, her eyes is shinin', 'n' them +dimples of her's is the life of the party. +</P> + +<P> +"'So long, professor,' she says to me when she's goin'. 'Much obliged +for the lesson. Our act will be a scream.' +</P> + +<P> +"Not long after that they moves the dingus over to the theater, 'n' +Banks tells me to bring the hosses over at three o'clock the next day. +I'm there to the minute, but nobody shows up 'n' I stands out in front +with the dogs fur what seems like a week. All of a sudden a tall pale +guy, who ain't got no coat on, comes bustin' out of the entrance. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where in hell and damnation have you been with these skates?' he +says. His hair is stickin' up on end 'n' he's got a wild look in his +eye. +</P> + +<P> +"'Batty as a barn,' I says to myself, 'n' gets behind Edwin Booth. +</P> + +<P> +"'Speak up!' says the pale guy. 'Before I do murder!' I looks up 'n' +down the street—not a cop in sight. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm a gone fawn skin,' I says to myself, but I thinks I'll try to +soothe him till help comes. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's all right, pal, that's all right,' I says to him. 'These +pretty hosses are in a show. Did you ever see a show? I seen a show +once that—' +</P> + +<P> +"'My poor boy,' he says, breakin' in. 'I didn't know! What got into +Banks?' he says, sort-a to hisself. 'Try and remember,' he says to me, +'weren't you told to bring these pretty horses here at three o'clock?' +</P> + +<P> +"That puts me jerry, 'n' I sure am sore when I thinks how he gets my +goat. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you big stiff!' I says. 'Ain't I been standin' here with these +plugs fur a week? If you wants 'em, why don't you come 'n' tell me to +lead 'em in? Do you think I'm a mind-reader?' +</P> + +<P> +"His voice gets wild again. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lead 'em in where?' he says. 'Through the lobby? Do you want to buy +'em tickets at the box-office? Will you have orchestra chairs for 'em +or will front-row balcony do? Now beat it up that alley to the stage +entrance, you doddering idiot!' he says. 'You've held up this +rehearsal two hours!' +</P> + +<P> +"Say, I've made some fierce breaks in my time, but that was the limit. +It goes to show what a sucker anybody is at a new game. But at that, a +child would have knowed those dogs didn't go in the front way. +</P> + +<P> +"When I gets on to the stage with the hosses, there's guys 'n' dames +standin' around all over it. The chicken comes 'n' shakes my mitt. +</P> + +<P> +"'Say, kid,' she says, 'you'll hit the street for this sure. Where +<I>have</I> you been?' +</P> + +<P> +"Before I can tell her, here comes the pale guy down the aisle. +</P> + +<P> +"'Everybody off stage!' he hollers. The bunch beats it to the sides. +'Now,' says the pale guy. 'We'll start the third act. Pixley,' he +says to the chicken, 'I'll read your lines. You explain to Daniel +Webster his cue, lines and business for your scene. Charlie, hold +those horses.' +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken starts to wise me up like he tells her. I'm a jock in the +play, 'n' I has one line to say. 'He'll win, sir, never fear,' is the +line. What another guy says to me before I says it she calls a cue, +'n' I learns that, too. I don't remember much what goes on that first +day. I gets through my stunt O. K., except what I has to say—somehow, +I can't get it off my chest louder'n a he-mouse can squeak. +</P> + +<P> +"'If any one told me a horse would win, in that tone of voice,' says +the pale guy to me, 'I'd go bet against him!' He keeps me sayin' it +over 'n' over till pretty soon you can hear me nearly three feet away. +'That'll have to do for today,' says the pale guy. 'Everybody here at +two o'clock to-morrow. I'll have the lobby swept out for your +entrance, Daniel Webster,' he says to me. +</P> + +<P> +"I tries the back door fur a change next day and they rehearse all +afternoon. I'm here to say that pale guy is some dispenser of remarks. +At plain 'n' fancy cussin' he's a bear. +</P> + +<P> +"He's got the whole bunch buffaloed, except the chicken. She hands it +back to him when it comes too strong. +</P> + +<P> +"'Pixley,' he says to her once, 'your directions call for a quick exit. +The audience will be able to stand it if you get off stage inside of +ten minutes. Try and remember you are not stalling a Johnny with a +fond farewell in this scene.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's a real cute crack,' says the chicken. 'But you've got your +dates mixed. I can shoo a Johnny, even if he's in the profession,' she +says, lookin' at him, 'quicker than a bum stage manager can fire a +little chorus girl.' +</P> + +<P> +"The pale guy's name is De Mott. He looks at her hard fur a minute, +then he swallers the dose. +</P> + +<P> +"'Proceed with the act,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"The show goes great the first night, far as I can see, but De Mott +ain't satisfied. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's dragging! It's dragging!' he keeps sayin' to everybody. +</P> + +<P> +"A minute before I has to walk out on the stage, leadin' Edwin Booth, I +can't think of nothin' but what I has to say. I gets one look at all +them blurry faces, 'n' I goes into a trance. +</P> + +<P> +"'More than life depends on this race!' I hears a voice say, about a +mile off. That's my cue, but all I can remember is to tell him it's a +cinch, 'n' say it loud. +</P> + +<P> +"'The dog cops sure as hell!' I hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"After the act De Mott rushes over tearin' at his collar like it's +chokin' him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't you even know the difference between a horse and a dog?' he +yells at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'If you sees this hound cough it up in the stretch often as I have, +you calls him a dog yourself,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't furget again after that, 'n' things go along smooth as silk +from then on. +</P> + +<P> +"The show runs along fur a week, but it don't make good. +</P> + +<P> +"'The waving corn for this outfit!' says the chicken to me, Saturday +night. 'The citizens of Peoria, Illinois, will have a chance to lamp +my art before long.' +</P> + +<P> +"She's got it doped right. We hit the road in jig-time. Banks makes a +speech before we leaves. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ladies and gentlemen,' he says, 'I thank you for your good work. Mr. +De Mott will represent me on the road. I hope you will be a happy +family, and I wish you success.' +</P> + +<P> +"Outside of the chicken, I'm not stuck on the bunch. They're as cheap +a gang as I'm ever up against. This De Mott guy is a cheese right, but +he sure thinks he's the original bell-wether. He's strong fur the +chicken, 'n' this makes the others sore at her. They don't have much +to do with me neither, 'n' she don't fall fur De Mott, so her 'n' me +sees each other a lot. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a bug over hosses 'n' the track. She wants me to tell her all +about trainin' a hoss 'n' startin' a hoss 'n' fifty other things +besides. +</P> + +<P> +"'I always lose,' she says. 'But then, I'm a rummy. Can you tell +which horse is going to win, Blister?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sometimes,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'When you go back to the track will you put me wise so I can win?' she +says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You bet I will, girlie!' I says. 'Any time I cut loose a good thing +you gets the info right from the feed-box.' +</P> + +<P> +"De Mott keeps noticin' us stickin' together. He's talkin' to her once +when I'm passin' by. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's on the square,' she says pretty loud. 'And that's more than you +can say about a lot of people I know.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That big ham was trying to knock you,' she says to me afterwards. +</P> + +<P> +"We makes a bunch of towns. Nothin' very big—burgs like Erie 'n' +Grand Rapids 'n' Dayton. Finally we hits St. Louis fur a two weeks' +stand. This suits me. I'm sure tired of shippin' the dogs every few +days. +</P> + +<P> +"One night the chicken stops me as I'm takin' the pups to their kennel. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come back for me, Blister,' she says, 'when you get your horses put +up. There's a Johnny in this town that's pestering the life out of me. +He wants me to go to 'Frisco with him.' +</P> + +<P> +"When I gets back to the theater I sees a green buzz-wagon at the stage +door with a guy 'n' a shofe in it. +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken has hold of my arm comin' out of the door, but she lets go +of it 'n' then steps up straight to the buzz-wagon. +</P> + +<P> +"'I can't keep my engagement with you this evening,' she says. 'My +brother's in town and I'm going to be with him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Bring your brother along,' says the guy, 'n' I know by that he's got +it bad. +</P> + +<P> +"'I can't very well,' she says. 'We have some family matters to talk +over. I'll see you some other evening.' +</P> + +<P> +"The very next night a bunch of scenery tumbles over. The race is +goin' on, 'n' Edwin Booth is layin' down to it right. A piece of +scenery either falls under his feet or else jims the machine, I never +knows which, anyhow, all of a sudden the hoss gets real footin'. +Bingo! We're on our way like we're shot out of a gun. We go through +all the scenery on that side 'n' Edwin Booth does a flop when he hits +the brick wall at the end of the stage. The ole hound ain't even +scratched. I ain't hurt neither. +</P> + +<P> +"The curtain rings down 'n' De Mott comes a-lopin' to where I'm gettin' +a painted grand-stand off of Edwin Booth's front legs. +</P> + +<P> +"'In heaven's name what were you trying to do?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I was just practisin' one of them quick exits you're always talkin' +about,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' he says. 'Keep on practising till you come to that door! +Follow on down the street till you reach the river and then jump in!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I guess I'm fired—is that it?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're a good guesser,' says De Mott. +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken has come over by this time. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are you hurt, Blister?' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not a bit, girlie,' I says, 'n' starts to go change my clothes. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait till I give you an order on the box-office for your money,' says +De Mott. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, get busy,' I says to him. 'I've stood it around where you are +about as long as is healthy.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What's that?' says the chicken to De Mott. 'You don't mean to tell +me you fired him!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't mean to tell you <I>anything</I> that's none of your business,' +says De Mott. 'Go dress for the next act!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Not on your life!' she says. 'You can't fire him; it wasn't <I>his</I> +fault! I'll write Banks a <I>lot</I> I know about you!' +</P> + +<P> +"De Mott pulls out his watch. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll give you just <I>one minute</I> to start for your dressing-room,' he +says to her. +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken knocks the watch out of his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>That</I> for your old turnip and you, too!' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're fired!' yells De Mott. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, no, I ain't!' says the chicken. 'That's my way of breaking a +contract and a watch at the same time. You needn't write an order for +me,' she says. 'I'm overdrawn a week now.' +</P> + +<P> +"When we're leavin', after we gets our street clothes on, De Mott stops +us. +</P> + +<P> +"'There's a way you can both get back,' he says to the chicken. +</P> + +<P> +"'When I sell out,' says she, 'it'll be to a real man for real money, +not to a cheap ham-fat for a forty-dollar job.' +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken won't stay at the hotel where the bunch is that night, so +we both moves over to another. When we pays our bill I have seven +bucks left 'n' she has six. +</P> + +<P> +"'We'll decide what to do in the morning, Blister,' she says. 'I've +got a headache, so I think I'll hit the hay.' +</P> + +<P> +"She goes to her room 'n' I sets 'n' studies how this is goin' to wind +up, till three o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +"We has breakfast together the next mawnin' about noon. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' says the chicken, 'I've been up against it before, but this is +tougher than usual. Everybody I know is broke or badly bent.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Same here,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You poor kid!' she says. 'What'll you do?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't worry none about me,' I says. 'I can get to New Awlins +somehow—they're racin' down there. But what about you?' +</P> + +<P> +"'If I could get back East,' she says, 'I know a floor-walker at Macy's +who'll stake me to a job till I can get placed.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You stick around here,' I says, when we're through eatin'. 'I'll go +out 'n' give the burg a lookin' over.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I've got that Johnny's phone number,' she says. 'I wonder if he'd +stand for a touch without getting too fresh?' +</P> + +<P> +"I goes to the desk 'n' wigwags the clerk. He's a fair-haired boy with +a alabaster dome. +</P> + +<P> +"'Are they runnin' poolrooms in the village?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, sir,' he says. 'Pool and billiard room just across the street.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Much obliged,' I says. I see the tomtit ain't got a man's size chirp +in him, so I goes outside 'n' hunts up a bull. +</P> + +<P> +"'Can you wise me up to a pony bazaar in this neck of the woods?' I +says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Go chase yourself,' he says. 'What do you think I am—a capper?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Be a sport,' I says. 'Come through with the info—I ain't a live +one. I'm a chalker, 'n' I'm flat. I'm lookin' fur a job.' +</P> + +<P> +"He sizes me up fur quite a while. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' he says at last, 'I guess if they trim you they'll earn it. +Go down two blocks, then half a block to your right and take a squint +at the saloon with the buffalo head over the bar.' +</P> + +<P> +"I finds the saloon easy enough. +</P> + +<P> +"'Make it a tall one,' I says to the barkeep. +</P> + +<P> +"While I'm lappin' up the drink, a guy walks in 'n' goes through a door +at the other end of the booze parlor. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where does that door go to?' I says to the barkeep. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's nothin' but an exit,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's right in my line,' I says. 'I'll take a chance at it.' +</P> + +<P> +"When I opens the door I hears a telegraph machine goin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Just like mother used to make,' I says out loud, 'n' follows down a +dark hall to the poolroom. +</P> + +<P> +"I watches the New Awlins entries chalked up 'n' I sees a hoss called +Tea Kettle in the third race. Now this Tea Kettle ain't a bad pup. +He's owned by a couple of wise Ikes who never let him win till the odds +are right. Eddie Murphy has this hoss 'n' Duckfoot Johnson's swipin' +him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I wish I knew what they're doin' with that Tea Kettle to-day,' I says +to myself, when I've looked 'em all over. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been settin' there fur quite a while when a nigger comes in. I +don't pay no attention to him at first, but I happen to see him fish a +telegram out of his pocket 'n' look at it. +</P> + +<P> +"'That ole nigger's got some dope,' I says to myself. 'I'll amble over +'n' try to kid it out of him.' +</P> + +<P> +"I mosies over to where he's settin'. He puts the wire in his pocket +when he sees me comin'. I sets down beside him 'n' goes to readin' the +paper. Pretty soon I folds up the paper 'n' looks at the board. +</P> + +<P> +"'That Tea Kettle might come through,' I says to the ole nigger. +</P> + +<P> +"'Dat ain' likely,' he says. 'He ain' won fo' a coon's aige.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I talks to his swipe not very long ago,' I says, ''n' he tells me +he's good.' +</P> + +<P> +"The ole nigger looks at me hard. +</P> + +<P> +"'Whar does you hol' dis convahsation at?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Sheepshead,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Does you reccomember de name ob de swipe?' says the ole nigger. +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure!' I says, 'I've knowed <I>him</I> all my life! His name is Duckfoot +Johnson.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, suh!' he says. 'Yes, suh—an' what mought yo' name be?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Blister Jones,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, man!' he says, 'I've heard ob you frequen'ly. Ma name am +Johnson. Duckfoot is ma boy; hyars a tellegam fum him!' +</P> + +<P> +"He pulls out the wire. 'T. K. in the third,' it says. I looks up at +the board—Tea Kettle's twelve-to-one. +</P> + +<P> +"I goes out of that poolroom on the jump 'n' runs all the way to the +hotel. The chicken ain't in her room. I falls down-stairs 'n' looks +all around—nothin' doin'. All of a sudden I sees her in the telephone +booth. +</P> + +<P> +"'Gimme that six bones quick!' I says when I've got the glass door +open. She puts her hand over the phone. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here, it's in my bag,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"I grabs the bag 'n' beats it. I gets the change out on my way back to +the poolroom. The third race is still open, 'n' I gets ten bucks +straight 'n' two to show on Tea Kettle. Then I goes over where ole man +Johnson's settin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Whar does you go so quick like?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm after some coin,' I says, tryin' to ketch my breath. 'I've took +a shot at the Tea Kettle hoss.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I has bet on him,' he says, 'to ma fullest reso'ses.' +</P> + +<P> +"'How much you got on?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Foh dollahs,' says ole man Johnson. +</P> + +<P> +"Just then the telegraph begins to click. +</P> + +<P> +"'They're off at New Orle-e-e-ns!' sings the operator. 'King Ja-a-ames +first! Eldorado-o-o second! Anvil-l-l third!' +</P> + +<P> +"The telegraph keeps a stutterin' 'n' a stutterin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Eldorado-o-o at the quarter a length! Anvil-l-l second a length! +King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. +</P> + +<P> +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He looks at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Eldorado-o-o at the half by three lengths! Anvil-l-l second by two +lengths! King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. +</P> + +<P> +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He don't look at me. He looks up at the +ceilin' 'n' his lips is goin' like he's prayin'. Me? I'm wipin' the +sweat off my face. +</P> + +<P> +"'Eldorado-o-o in the stretch a half a length!' sings the operator. +'Anvil-l-l second a nose! Te-e-a Kettle third and coming fast!' +</P> + +<P> +"If I gets a shock from that telegraph wire I don't jump any higher. +</P> + +<P> +"'Howdy, howdy! <I>He's boilin now</I>,' yells ole man Johnson loud enough +to bust your ear. +</P> + +<P> +"Then that cussed telegraph stops right off. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wire trouble at New Orleans,' says the operator. +</P> + +<P> +"I sure hopes I never spends no more half-hours like I does then +waitin' fur the New Awlins message. I thinks every minute ole man +Johnson's goin' to croak if it don't come soon. In about ten years the +telegraph begins to work again. +</P> + +<P> +"'The result at New Orle-e-ens!' sings the operator. 'Te-e-ea Kettle +wins by five lengths! Eldo—' +</P> + +<P> +"But ole man Johnson lets out such a whoop I don't hear who finishes +second 'n' third. +</P> + +<P> +"I hustles up to the chicken's room when I'm back to the hotel. The +transom's open when I gets to the door 'n' I hears a guy talkin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't misunderstand me,' he's savin'. 'You know perfectly the +money's nothing to me, but why should I cut my own throat? If you'll +go West instead of East, everything I have is yours!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't misunderstand you,' says the chicken's voice. 'I have you +sized up to a dot. I've met hundreds like <I>you</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"I knocks on the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come,' says the chicken, 'n' I walks in. She's standin' with the +table between her 'n' a swell-lookin' guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Chandler,' she says. 'Let me introduce you to my brother.' +</P> + +<P> +"'How do you do?' says the swell guy. 'You have a charming sister.' +</P> + +<P> +"'She's a great kid,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You don't look much alike,' says the swell guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'She's not my full sister,' I says. 'Our mothers weren't the same.' +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken coughs a couple of times. +</P> + +<P> +"'That explains it,' says the swell guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now,' I says to him, 'I hate to tie a can to one of sis's friend, but +she's goin' East at six o'clock, 'n' she's got to pack her duds.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, Blister, <I>am</I> I?' says the chicken. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yep, I hears from auntie,' I says, pullin' out the roll 'n' lay in' +it on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken gives a shriek, 'n' starts to hug me right in front of the +swell guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'I seem to be dee tro,' says he, 'n' backs out the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where did you get the money?' says the chicken, countin' the roll. +'Why! There's <I>over a hundred here</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"I takes fifty bucks fur myself, 'n' hands her the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"'I cops it at a poolroom,' I says. 'A ten-to-one shot comes through +fur me. Now get busy. I'll send fur your trunk in ten minutes.' +</P> + +<P> +"The chicken won't hear of ridin' in a street-car, so we takes a cab +like a couple of Trust maggots. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll buy your ticket 'n' check your trunk fur you,' I says, when we +get to the station. 'Where do you want to go? New York?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Anywhere you say,' she says… +</P> + +<P> +"I'm standin' there lookin' at her, lettin' this sink into my bean, 'n' +she begins to get red. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't stand there gawking at me!' she says, stampin' her foot. 'Say +something!' +</P> + +<P> +"'How about this St. Louis guy?' I says. 'With all his—' +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh, he was only a Johnny,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'How about De Mott?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ugh!' she says, makin' a face. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't say nothin' after that till I has it all thought out. The +start looks awful good, but I begins to weaken when I thinks of the +finish. +</P> + +<P> +"'You act just suffocated with pleasure,' says the chicken. But I +don't pay no attention. +</P> + +<P> +"'You'll be lucky if you gets a job swipin' fur your eats when you hit +New Awlins,' I says to myself. 'Wouldn't you look immense with a doll +on your staff?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, listen,' I says to her, 'how long is this here panic goin' to +last?' +</P> + +<P> +"'You can search me,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, how long is this hundred goin' to last?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not long,' she says. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's the answer,' I says. 'Now, you hop a deep sea goin' rattler +fur New York while the hoppin' 's good.' +</P> + +<P> +"'But, Blister,' she says, 'at New Orleans you could win lots of +money—think how much you've made already—and I could go to the races +every day!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Furget it,' I says. 'You think you're a wise girl. Why, you ain't +nothin' but a child! A break like I has to-day don't come but seldom. +If I cops the coin easy, like you figgers, why am I chambermaid to two +dogs in a bum show at twenty-five per? Now slip me the price of a +ticket to New York,' I says, 'or I goes 'n' buys it out of my own roll, +'n' then I ain't got enough left to get to New Awlins.' +</P> + +<P> +"She don't say nothin' more, but hands me the dough. I buys her ticket +'n' checks her trunk fur her. She keeps real quiet till her rattler's +ready. I kisses her good-by when they calls the train fur New York, +'n' still she don't say nothin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's on your mind, girlie?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Nothing much,' she says. 'Only I'm letter perfect in the +turnin'-down act, but when it's the other way—I ain't up in my +lines.'" … +</P> + +<P> +Blister waved to a waiter and I saw there was to be no more. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever see her again?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you're askin' questions," said Blister. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TRÈS JOLIE +</H3> + + +<P> +The hot inky odors of a newspaper plant took me by the throat during my +progress in the whiny elevator to the third floor. +</P> + +<P> +Before attacking the day's editorial I tried to decide whether it was +the nerve flicking clash of the linotypes, the pecking chatter of the +typewriters, or the jarring rumble of the big cylinder presses that was +taking the life out of my work. I was impartial in this, but gave it +up. +</P> + +<P> +And then a letter was dropped on the desk before me, and I recognized +in the penciled address upon the envelope the unformed hand of Blister +Jones. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Dear Friend," the letter began, and somehow the ache behind my eyes +died out as I read. 'I guess you are thinking me dead by this time on +account of not hearing from me sooner in answer to yours. Well, this +is to show you I am alive and kicking. I guess you have read how good +the mare is doing. She is a good mare, as good as her dam. I had some +mean luck with her at Nashville by her going lame for me, so she could +not start in the big stake, but she is O. K. now. I note what you said +about being sick. That is tough. Why don't you come to Louisville and +see the mare run in the derby. If you would only bet, I can give you a +steer that would put you right and pay all your expenses. Well, this +is all for the present. +<BR><BR> +"Resp. +<BR> +"Blister Jones. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"P. S. Now, be sure to come as I want you to see the mare. She is sure +a good mare." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +I laid the letter down with a sigh. The mare referred to was the now +mighty Très Jolie favorite for the Kentucky Derby. I had seen her once +when a two-year-old, and I remembered Blister's pride as he told me she +was to be placed in his hands by Judge Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, I would be glad to see "the mare," and I longed for the free +sunlit world of which she was a part, as for a tonic. But this was, of +course, impossible. So long as hard undiscerning materialism demanded +editorials—editorials I must furnish. +</P> + +<P> +"Damn such a pen!" I said aloud, at its first scratch. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite right!" boomed a deep voice. A big gentle hand fell on my +shoulder and spun me away from the desk. "See here," the voice went on +gruffly, "you're back too soon. We can't afford to take chances with +<I>you</I>. Get out of this. The cashier'll fix you up. Don't let me see +you around here again till—we have better pens," and he was gone +before thanks were possible. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to Churchill Downs to cover the derby for a Sunday special!" +I sang to the sporting editor as I passed his door. +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>Review of Reviews</I> might use it!" followed me down the hall, and +I chuckled as I headed for the cashier's desk. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Well, well, well!" was Blister's greeting. "Look who's here! I seen +your ole specs shinin' in the sun clear down the line!" +</P> + +<P> +I sniffed luxuriously. +</P> + +<P> +"It smells just the same," I said. "Horses, leather and liniment! +Where's Très Jolie?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the second stall," said Blister, pointing. "Wait a minute—I'll +have a swipe lead her out. Chick!"—this to a boy dozing on a rickety +stool—"if your time ain't too much took up holdin' down that chair, +this gentleman 'ud like to take a pike at the derby entry." +</P> + +<P> +Like a polished red-bronze sword leaping from a black velvet scabbard +the mare came out of her stall into the sunlight, the boy clinging +wildly to the strap. She snorted, tossed her glorious head, and shot +her hind feet straight for the sky. +</P> + +<P> +"You, Jane, be a lady now!" yelled the boy, trying to stroke the +arching neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Why does he call her Jane?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Stable name," Blister explained. "Don't get too close—she's right on +edge!" And after a pause, his eyes shining: "Can you beat her?" +</P> + +<P> +I shook my head, speechless. +</P> + +<P> +"Neither can <I>they</I>!" Blister's hand swept the two-mile circle of +stalls that held somewhere within their big curve—the enemy. +</P> + +<P> +The boy at the mare's head laughed joyously. +</P> + +<P> +"They ain't got a chance!" he gloated. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Chick," said Blister. "Put her up! Hold on!" he corrected +suddenly. "Here's the boss!" And I became aware of a throbbing motor +behind me. So likewise did Très Jolie. +</P> + +<P> +"Whoa, Jane! Whoa, darling; it's mammy!" came in liquid tones from the +motor. +</P> + +<P> +The rearing thoroughbred descended to earth with slim inquiring ears +thrown forward, and I remembered that Blister had described Mrs. +Dillon's voice as "good to listen at." +</P> + +<P> +"Look, Virginia, she knows me!" the velvet voice exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +Another voice, rather heavy for a woman, but with a fascinating drawl +in it, answered: +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps she fancies you have a milk bottle with you. Isn't this the +one you and Uncle Jake raised on a bottle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yass'm, yass, Miss Vahginia, dat's her! Dat's ma Honey-bird!" came in +excited tones from an ancient negro, who alighted stiffly from the +motor and peered in our direction. As they approached, he held Mrs. +Dillon by the sleeve, and I realized that for Uncle Jake the sun would +never shine again. +</P> + +<P> +Judge Dillon, a big-boned silent man, I had met. And after the shower +of questions poured upon Blister had abated, and the mare had been +gentled, petted and given a lump of sugar with a final hug, he +presented me to his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"My cousin, Miss Goodloe," said Mrs. Dillon, and I sensed a mass of +tawny hair under the motor veil and looked into a pair of blue eyes set +wide apart beneath a broad white brow. It was no time for details. +</P> + +<P> +It developed that Miss Goodloe was from Tennessee, that she was +visiting the Dillons at Thistle Ridge near Lexington, and that she +liked a small book of verses of which I had been guilty. It further +developed that Mrs. Dillon had talked me over with an aunt of mine in +Cincinnati, that we were mutually devoted to Blister, and that he had +described me to her as "the most educated guy allowed loose." This +last I learned as Judge Dillon and Blister discussed the derby some +distance from us. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel awed and diffident in the presence of such learning," said Miss +Goodloe almost sleepily. "Why did I neglect my opportunities at Dobbs +Ferry!" +</P> + +<P> +"I would give a good deal to observe you when you felt diffident, +Virginia," said Mrs. Dillon, with a laugh like a silver bell. "Uncle +Jake!" she called, "we are going now." +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard of Uncle Jake," I said, as the old man felt his way +toward us. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes?" said Mrs. Dillon. "He insisted upon coming to <I>see</I> the derby." +She dwelt ever so lightly upon the verb, and Uncle Jake caught it. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Miss Sally," he explained, "dat ain' 'zackly what I mean. Hit's +like dis—I just am boun' foh to hyah all de folks shout glory when ma +Honey-bird comes home!" +</P> + +<P> +"What if she ain't in front, Uncle Jake?" said Blister, helping the old +man into the motor. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you trifle with me, boy!" replied Uncle Jake severely. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Derby day dawned as fair as turquoise sky and radiant sun could make +it. I had slept badly. Until late the night before I had absorbed a +haze of cigar smoke and the talk in the hotel lobby. Despite Blister's +confidence I had become panicky as I listened. There had been so much +assurance about several grave, soft-spoken horsemen who had felt that +at the weight the favorite could not win. +</P> + +<P> +"Nevah foh a moment, suh," one elderly well-preserved Kentuckian had +said, "will I deny the Dillon mare the right to be the public's choice. +But she has nevah met such a field of hosses as this, suh—and she +lacks the bone to carry top weight against them." +</P> + +<P> +There had been many nods of approval at this statement, and I had gone +to the Dillon party for consolation. But when I reached their +apartments I had found the judge more silent than ever, and Mrs. Dillon +as nervous as myself. Only Miss Goodloe appeared as usual. Her drawl +was soothingly indolent. She seemed entirely oblivious of any +tenseness in the atmosphere, and I caught myself wondering what was +behind those lazy-lidded blue eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Back in the lobby once more I had found it worse than ever—so many +were against the favorite. I had about decided that our hopes were +doomed, when a call boy summoned me to the desk with the statement, +"Gentleman to see you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +There I had found Blister and I fairly hugged him as he explained that +he had dropped in on the way to his "joint," as he called his hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"Listenin' to the knockers?" he asked, reading me at once. "Furget +it—them ole mint juleps is dead 'n' buried. You'll go dippy if you +fall fur that stuff." +</P> + +<P> +"But the weight!" I gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, they've got you goin' right, ain't they?" Blister exclaimed. +"Now listen! <I>She can carry the grand-stand 'n' come home on the bit</I>! +Get that fixed in your nut, 'n' then hit the hay." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, I believe I shall," I said, and I had followed his advice, +though it was long until sleep came to me. +</P> + +<P> +But now as the blue-gray housetops of Louisville sparkled with tiny +points of light, and the window-panes swam with pink-gold flame, I +looked out over the still sleeping city and laughed aloud at my fears +of the night before. +</P> + +<P> +"A perfect day," I thought. "The favorite will surely win, and Blister +and Uncle Jake and Mrs. Dillon will be made perfectly happy. A +beautiful day, and a fitting one in which to fix the name of Très Jolie +among the equine stars!" +</P> + +<P> +"We read some of your poetry last night after you had gone," said Mrs. +Dillon, as we waited for the motor to take us to Churchill Downs. "I +liked it, and I don't care for verse as a rule, except Omar. I dote on +<I>The Rubaiyat</I>; don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed," I replied. "I can't quite swallow his philosophy, but +he puts it all so charmingly. Some of his pictures are most alluring." +</P> + +<P> +"Do learnéd persons ever long for the <I>wilderness</I>, and the <I>bough</I>, +and—the other things?" Miss Goodloe asked innocently. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite frequently," I assured her. +</P> + +<P> +She affected a sigh of relief. +</P> + +<P> +"That's such a help," she said. "It makes them seem more like the rest +of us." +</P> + +<P> +A huge motor-car wheeled from the line at the curb and glided past us. +A man in the tonneau lifted his hat high above his head as he saw Judge +Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you Très Jolie!" he called with a smile. "The best luck in the +world to you, Judge!" It was an excessively rich New Yorker, who owned +one of the horses about to run in the derby. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you Rob Roy!" called back Judge Dillon, also raising his hat. +"The same to you, Henry!" And suddenly there was a tug at my nerves, +for I realized that this was the <I>salut de combat</I>. +</P> + +<P> +But Uncle Jake, his faith in his "Honey-bird" unshaken as the time drew +near, rode in placid contentment on the front seat as we sped to the +track. We passed, or were passed by, many motor-cars from which came +joyous good wishes as the Dillons were recognized. Each packed and +groaning street-car held some one who knew our party, and "Oh, you Très +Jolie!" they howled as we swept by. The old negro's ears drank all +this in. It was as wine to his spirit. He hummed a soft minor +accompaniment to the purring motor, and leaning forward I caught these +words: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Curry a mule an' curry a hoss,<BR> +Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Luck to her, Judge!" called the man at the gates, as he waved us +through. "Ah've bet my clothes on her!" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll need a barrel to get home in!" yelled a voice from a buggy. +"The Rob Roy hoss'll beat her and make her like it!" +</P> + +<P> +"You-all are from the East, Ah reckon," we heard the gateman reply. +"Ah've just got twenty left that says we raise 'em gamer in Kentucky +than up your way!" +</P> + +<P> +At the stables we found Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"How is she?" asked Judge Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +"She's ready," was the answer. "It's all over, but hangin' the posies +on her." +</P> + +<P> +"Lemme feel dis mayah," said Uncle Jake, and Mrs. Dillon guided him +into the stall. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to give her one little nip before she goes to the post, +Judge," I heard Blister say in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a drop," came the quick reply. "If she can't win on her own +courage, she'll have to lose." +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Dillon won't stand fur hop—he won't even let you slip a slug of +booze into a hoss," Blister had once told me. I had not altogether +understood this at the time, but now I looked at the big quiet man with +his splendid sportsmanship, and loved him for it. +</P> + +<P> +A roar came from the grand-stand across the center-field. +</P> + +<P> +"They're off in the first race," said Blister. "Put the saddle on her, +boys;" and when this was accomplished: "Bring her out—it's time to +warm up." +</P> + +<P> +I had witnessed Très Jolie come forth once before and I drew well back, +but it was Mrs. Dillon who led the thoroughbred from the stall. She +was breathing wonderful words. Her voice was like the cooing of a +dove. Très Jolie appeared to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"She don't handle like that fur us, does she, Chick?" said Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"Nope," said the boy addressed. "I guess she's hypnotized." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do it?" I inquired of Mrs. Dillon as she led the mare to +the track, the rest of us following. +</P> + +<P> +"She's my precious lamb, and I'm her own mammy," was the lucid +explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you know," said Blister to me. "Pete!" he called to a boy, +approaching, "I want this mare galloped a slow mile. Breeze her the +last eighth. Don't take hold of her any harder'n you have to. Try 'n' +<I>talk</I> her back." +</P> + +<P> +"I got you," said the boy, as Blister threw him up. Mrs. Dillon let go +of the bridle. Très Jolie stood straight on her hind legs, made three +tremendous bounds, and was gone. We could see the boy fighting to get +her under control, as she sped like a bullet down the track. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess Pete ain't usin' the right langwige," said the boy called +Chick, with a wide grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe she ain't listenin' good," added another boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut out the joshin' 'n' get her blankets ready," said Blister with a +frown. +</P> + +<P> +"I think we'd better start," suggested Judge Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't you terribly excited?" I asked Miss Goodloe curiously, as she +walked cool and composed by my side. My own heart was pounding. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," she drawled. +</P> + +<P> +"This girl is made of stone," I thought. +</P> + +<P> +The band was playing <I>Dixie</I> as we climbed the steps of the +grand-stand, and the thousands cheered until it was repeated. Hands +were thrust at the Dillons from every side, and until we found our box, +continued shouts of, "Oh, you Très Jolie!" rose above the crash of the +band. +</P> + +<P> +I had witnessed many races in the past and been a part of many racing +crowds but never one like this. These people were Kentuckians. The +thoroughbred was part of their lives and their traditions. Through him +many made their bread. Over the fairest of all their fair acres he +ran, and save for their wives and children they loved him best of all. +</P> + +<P> +Once each year for many years they had come from all parts of the +smiling bluegrass country to watch this struggle between the +satin-coated lords of speed that determined which was king. This +journey was like a pilgrimage, and worship was in their shining eyes, +as tier on tier I scanned their eager faces. +</P> + +<P> +And now three things happened. A bugle called, and called again. The +crowd grew deathly still. And Mrs. Dillon, in a voice that reminded me +of a frightened child, asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Blister?" +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be here," said Judge Dillon, patting her hand. And even as a +megaphone bellowed: "<I>We are now ready for the thirty-ninth renewal of +the Kentucky Derby</I>!" Blister squeezed through the crowd to the door of +the box. +</P> + +<P> +He was a rock upon which we immediately leaned. +</P> + +<P> +"Everything all right?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine as silk," he said cheerfully, dropping into a seat. "You'll see +a race hoss run to-day! Here they come! She's in front!" And held to +a proud sedateness by their tiny riders, the contenders in the derby +filed through the paddock-gate. +</P> + +<P> +At the head of these leashed falcons was a haughty, burnished, +slender-legged beauty—the proudest of them all. Her neck was curving +to the bit and she seemed to acknowledge with a gracious bow the roar +of acclamation that greeted her. She bore the number 1 upon her satin +side, and dropping my eyes to my program I read: +</P> + +<P> +<B>1. Très Jolie</B>—b. m. by Hamilton—dam Alberta. John C. Dillon, +Lexington, Kentucky. (Manders—blue and gold.) +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of jockey is Manders?" I asked Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heady boy," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia, oh, Virginia, isn't she a lamb?" gasped Mrs. Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a stuck-up miss," said Miss Goodloe in an even tone, and I +almost hated her. +</P> + +<P> +Number 2 I failed to see as they paraded past. +</P> + +<P> +Number 3 was a gorgeous black, with eyes of fire, powerful in neck and +shoulders, and with a long driving hip. He was handsome as the devil +and awe-inspiring. Applause from the stands likewise greeted him, +though it was feeble to the howl that had met the favorite. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the one we've got to beat," Blister stated. +</P> + +<P> +"Good horse," said Judge Dillon quietly. +</P> + +<P> +<B>3. Rob Roy</B>—bl. s. by Tempus Fugit—dam Marigold. Henry L. Whitley, +New York City. (Dawson—green and white.) +</P> + +<P> +I read. I followed him with my eyes and wished him somewhere else. He +looked so overpowering—he and the millions behind him.… +</P> + +<P> +At last, a quarter of a mile away, they halted in a gorgeous shifting +group. And the taut elastic webbing of the barrier that was to hold +them from their flight a little longer, was stretched before them. +</P> + +<P> +They surged against it like a parti-colored wave, and then receding, +surged again, but always the narrow webbing held them back. I found +the blue and gold. It was almost without motion—it did not shift and +whirl with the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't she the grand actor?" said Blister with delight. "The best +mannered thing at the barrier ever I saw." +</P> + +<P> +Then for a moment I lost the colors that had held my gaze. They were +blotted out and crowded back by other colors. In that instant the wave +conquered. It grew larger and larger. It was coming like the wind. +But where was the blue and gold? +</P> + +<P> +I was answered by a heaven-cleaving shout that changed in the same +breath to a despairing groan. It was as though a giant had been +stricken deep while roaring forth his battle-cry. The thousands had +seen what I had missed—their hopes in an instant were gone. In the +stillness that followed, a harsh whisper reached me. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>She's left</I>! <I>She's left</I>!" Then an uncanny laugh. The rock had +broken. +</P> + +<P> +The wave was greeted by silence. A red bay thundered in the lead. +Then came a demon, hard held, with open mouth, and number 3 shone from +his raven side. Followed a flying squadron all packed together, their +hoofs rolling like drums. And then came aching lengths, and my eyes +filled with tears and something gripped my heart and squeezed it as +Très Jolie, skimming like an eager swallow, fled past undaunted by that +hopeless gap. +</P> + +<P> +"Whar my baby at?" asked Uncle Jake. He had heard the groan and the +silence, and fear was in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—Uncle Jake—" began Mrs. Dillon. "They—" her voice broke. +</P> + +<P> +"Dey ain' left her at de post? Doan' tell me dat, Miss Sally!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Dillon nodded as though to eyes that saw. Uncle Jake seemed to +feel it. +</P> + +<P> +"How fah back? How fah back?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"She ain't got a chance, Uncle Jake!" said Blister, and dropped his +head on his arm lying along the railing. +</P> + +<P> +"How fah back?" insisted the old negro. +</P> + +<P> +Blister raised his head and gazed. +</P> + +<P> +"Twenty len'ths," he said, and dropped it again. +</P> + +<P> +"Doan' you fret, Miss Sally," Uncle Jake encouraged. "She'll beat 'em +yet!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not this time, old man," said Judge Dillon very gently. He was +tearing his program carefully into little pieces, with big shaking +hands.… +</P> + +<P> +The horses were around the first turn, and the battle up the back +stretch had begun. The red bay was still leading. +</P> + +<P> +"Mandarin in front!" said some one behind us. "Rob Roy second and +running easy—the rest nowhere!" +</P> + +<P> +"Jes' you wait!" called Uncle Jake. +</P> + +<P> +"You ole fool nigger!" came Blister's muffled voice. +</P> + +<P> +Even at that distance I could have told which one was last. The same +effortless floating stride I had noticed long ago was hers as Très +Jolie, foot by foot, ate up the gap. At the far turn she caught the +stragglers and one by one she cut them down. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, gallant spirit!" I thought. "If they had given you but half a +chance!" +</P> + +<P> +I lost her among a melee of horses, on the turn, as the leader swung +into the stretch. It was the same red bay, but now the boy on the +black horse moved his hands forward a little and his mount came easily +to the leader's side. There was a short struggle between them and the +bay fell back. +</P> + +<P> +"Mandarin's done!" cried the voice behind us. "Rob Roy on the bit!" +</P> + +<P> +"I might have known it!" I thought bitterly. "He looked it all along." +</P> + +<P> +Then a gentle buzzing sprang up like a breeze. It was a whisper that +grew to a muttering, and then became a rumble and at last one delirious +roar. The giant had recovered, and his mighty cry brought me to my +feet, my heart in my throat—for "<I>Très Jolie</I>" he roared … and +coming!… coming!!… coming!!!… I saw the blue and gold! +</P> + +<P> +A maniac rose among us and flung his fists above his head. He called +upon his gods—and then that magic name—"<I>Très Jolie</I>," he shrieked: +"<I>Oh, Baby Doll</I>!" It was Blister—and I marveled. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-204"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-204.jpg" ALT=""Très Jolie!" he shrieked." BORDER="2" WIDTH="522" HEIGHT="417"> +<H3> +[Illustration: "Très Jolie!" he shrieked.] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +I had seen him stand and lose his all without a sign of feeling. But +now he raved and cursed and prayed and plead with his "Girlie!"—his +"Baby Doll!", and with the last atom of her strength his sweetheart +answered the call. +</P> + +<P> +She reached, heaven alone knows how, the flank of the flying black, and +inch by inch she crept along that flank until they struggled head to +head. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you black dog!" howled Blister, wild triumph in his voice. +"You've got to beat a race hoss <I>now</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +As though he heard, the black horse flattened to his work. Almost to +the end he held her there, eye meeting eye. The task was just beyond +him. Even as they shot under the wire, he faltered. But it was very +close, and the shrieking hysterical grand-stand grew still and waited. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced at Blister. He was leaning forward, almost crouching, his +face ashen, his eyes on the number board. +</P> + +<P> +Then slowly the numbers swung into view, and "<I>1, 3, 7,</I>" I read. +</P> + +<P> +There was a roar like the falling of ten thousand forest trees. These +words flashed through my mind. "We'll know about <I>her</I> when she goes +the route, carryin' weight against class." … Yes, we knew about +<I>her</I>—now! +</P> + +<P> +I saw Mrs. Dillon's lips move at Uncle Jake's ear. He raised his +sightless eyes to the sky, his head nodding. It was as though he +visioned paradise and found it good indeed. +</P> + +<P> +I saw Blister's face turn from gray to red, from red to purple. The +tenseness went out of his body, and suddenly he was gone, fighting his +way through the crowd toward the steps. +</P> + +<P> +I saw Judge Dillon's big arm gather in his trembling wife, and he held +her close while the heavens rocked. +</P> + +<P> +These things I saw through a blur, and then I felt Miss Goodloe sway at +my side. She clutched at the railing, missed it and sank slowly into +her seat. I but glimpsed a white face in which the eyes had changed +from blue to violet, when it was covered by two slender gloved hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you ill?" I called, as I bent above her. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"It was too much," I barely heard. +</P> + +<P> +I stood bewildered, and then my stupid mind cast out a soulless image +that it held and fixed the true one there. +</P> + +<P> +"I rarely make this kind of a fool of myself," she said at last. +</P> + +<P> +"That I can quite believe," I replied, smiling down at her. She +returned the smile with one that held a fine good comradeship, and we +seemed to have known each other long.… +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +A crowd had packed themselves before the stall. As we reached it +Blister appeared in the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +"Get back! Get back!" he ordered, and pointing to the panting mare: +"Don't you think she's earned a right to breath?" +</P> + +<P> +The crowd fell away, except one rather shabby little old man. +</P> + +<P> +"No one living," said he, "appreciates what she has done moh than +myself, suh, but I desiah to lay ma hand on a real race mayah once moh +befoh I die!" +</P> + +<P> +Blister's face softened. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on in, Mr. Sanford," he invited. "Why <I>you</I> win the derby once, +didn't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, suh. Yes, suh, many yeahs ago," said the little old man, +and removing his battered hat he entered the stall, his white head bare. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Dillon's face as she, too, entered the stall was tear-wet and +alight with a great tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +A boy dodged his way to where we stood. His face and the front of his +blue and gold jacket were encrusted with dirt. +</P> + +<P> +"You shoe-maker!" was Blister's scornful greeting. +</P> + +<P> +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't my fault, Judge," the boy piped, sniffling. +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't! That sour-headed bay stud of Henderson's +swung his ugly butt under the mare's nose, 'n' just as I'm takin' back +so the dog won't kick a leg off her, that mutt of a starter lets 'em +go!" +</P> + +<P> +"All right, sonny," said the judge. "You rode a nice race when you did +get away." +</P> + +<P> +"Much obliged, sir. I just wanted to tell you," said the boy, and he +disappeared in the crowd as Judge Dillon joined those in the stall. +</P> + +<P> +I stayed outside watching the group about Très Jolie, and never had my +heart gone out to people more. Deeply I wished to keep them in my +life… I wondered if we would ever meet again. But pshaw!—I was +nothing to them. Well, I would go back to Cincinnati when they left in +the morning.… +</P> + +<P> +"Can't we have you for a week at Thistle Ridge?" Mrs. Dillon stood +looking up at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, that's very kind—" I stammered. +</P> + +<P> +"The north pasture is a <I>wilderness</I> this year, the <I>loaf of bread, the +jug of wine</I> and the <I>bough</I> are waiting. You can, of course, furnish +your own <I>verses</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"The picture is almost perfect," I said, and glanced at Miss Goodloe. +</P> + +<P> +"Virginia, dear—" prompted Mrs. Dillon. +</P> + +<P> +"As a <I>thou</I>—I always strive to please," drawled that blue-eyed young +person. Oh, that I had been warned by her words! +</P> + +<P> +Our purring flight to Louisville, when the day was done, became a +triumph that mocked the dead Caesars. Of this the old negro on the +front seat missed little. He was singing, softly singing. And leaning +forward I listened. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Curry a mule an' curry a hoss,<BR> +Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +sang Uncle Jake. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +OLE MAN SANFORD +</H3> + + +<P> +"Do you happen to notice a old duck that comes to the stalls at +Loueyville just after the derby?" asked Blister. +</P> + +<P> +"Was his name Sanford, and did he wish to pat the mare?" I asked in +turn. +</P> + +<P> +"That's him," said Blister. "Ole man Sanford. It ain't likely you +ever heard of him, but everybody on the track knows him, if they ever +hit the Loueyville meetin'. They never charge him nothin' to get into +the gates. He ain't a owner no more, but way back there before I'm +alive he wins the Kentucky Derby with Sweet Alice, 'n' from what I +hears she was a grand mare. Ole man Sanford breeds Sweet Alice +hisself. In them days he's got a big place not far from Loueyville. +They tell me his folks get the land original from the govament, when +it's nothin' but timber. I hears once, but it don't hardly sound +reasonable, that they hands over a half a million acres to the first +ole man Sanford, who was a grandaddy of this ole man Sanford. If +that's so, Uncle Sam was more of a sport in them days than since. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know how they pry it all loose from him, but one mawnin' ole +man Sanford wakes up clean as a whistle. They've copped the whole +works—he ain't got nothin'. So he goes to keepin' books fur a whisky +house in Loueyville, 'n' he holds the job down steady fur twenty years. +The only time he quits pen-pushin' is when they race at Churchill +Downs. From the first minute the meetin' opens till get-away day comes +he's bright eyes at the rat hole. He don't add up no figgers fur +nobody then. He just putters around the track. He's doped out as +sort-a harmless by the bunch. +</P> + +<P> +"After the Très Jolie mare wins the derby fur me, ole man Sanford makes +my stalls his hang-out. I ain't kickin', all he wants to do is to look +at the mare 'n' chew the rag about her. That satisfies him completely. +</P> + +<P> +"'Of all the hosses, suh, who have been a glory to our state,' he says, +'but one otheh had as game a heart as this superb creature. I refer to +Sweet Alice, suh—a race mayah of such quality that the world marveled. +Not in a boastful manner, suh, but with propah humility, let me say +that I had the honor to breed and raise Sweet Alice, and that she bore +my colors when she won the tenth renewal of our great classic.' +</P> + +<P> +"He tells this to everybody that comes past the stalls, 'n' it ain't +long till he begins to bring people around to look the mare over. From +that he gets to watchin' how the swipes take care of her. Pretty soon +he begins to call 'em if things ain't done to suit him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Boy,' he'll say, 'that bandage is tighter than I like to see it. +Always allow the tendon a little play—do not impaieh the suhculation.' +</P> + +<P> +"The boys eat this stuff up—it tickles 'em. They treat him respectful +'n' do what he tells 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"'Everything O. K. to-day, sir?' they'll say. +</P> + +<P> +"Ole man Sanford don't tumble they're kiddin' him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah have nothing to complain of,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't long till he's overseein' my whole string of hosses, just +like he owns 'em. Man, he sure does enjoy hisself! He won't trade +places with August Belmont. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm gettin' Trampfast ready fur a nice little killin'. He's finished +away back in two starts, but he runs both races without a pill. This +hoss is a dope. He's been on it fur two seasons. He won't beat +nothin' without his hop. But when he gets just the right mixture under +his hide he figgers he can beat any kind of a hoss, 'n' he's about +right at that. He furgets all about his weak heart with the nutty +stuff in him. He thinks he's a ragin' lion. He can't wait to go out +there 'n' eat up them kittens that's goin' to start against him. +</P> + +<P> +"One mawnin' my boy Pete takes the Trampfast hoss out fur a trial. +</P> + +<P> +"'If he'll go six furlongs in about fourteen,' I says to Pete, 'he's +right. If he tries to loaf on you, shake him up; but if he's doin' his +work nice, let him suit hisself 'n' keep the bat off him. I want to +see what he'll do on his own.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I think he'll perform to-day,' says Pete. 'He's felt real good to me +fur the last week.' +</P> + +<P> +"Ole man Sanford's standin' there listenin'. When the work-out starts +he ketches the time with a big gold stop-clock that he fishes out of +his shiny ole vest. The clock's old, too—it winds with a key—but at +that she's a peach! +</P> + +<P> +"'That's a fine clock,' I says to him. He don't take his eyes off the +hoss comin' round the bend. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's running with freedom and well within himself,' he says. 'That +quatah was in twenty-foh flat! Yes, suh, this watch was presented to +me by membahs of the Breedah's Association to commemorate the victory +of Sweet Alice in the tenth renewal of our classic. You have heard me +speak of Sweet Alice?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes, you told me about her, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'That's sure some +clock.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If he does not faltah in the stretch, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'I +will presently show you the one minute and fohteen seconds you desiah +upon its face.' +</P> + +<P> +"The ole man's a good judge of pace,—Trampfast comes home bang in the +fourteen notch. +</P> + +<P> +"When Pete gets down at the stalls, ole man Sanford walks up to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hyah is a dollah foh you, boy,' he says, 'n' hands Pete a buck. +'That was a well-rated trial.' +</P> + +<P> +"Pete looks at the silver buck 'n' then at ole man Sanford 'n' then at +me. +</P> + +<P> +"'What the hell—' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You rough neck!' I says to Pete. Don't you know how to act when a +gentleman slips you somethin'?' +</P> + +<P> +"'But look a-here,' says Pete. 'He ain't got—' I gives Pete a poke +in the slats. 'Much obliged, sir,' he says, 'n' puts the bone in his +pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"'You are entirely welcome, mah boy,' says ole man Sanford, wavin' his +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"'Say,' Pete says to me, 'I think this hoss'll cop without shot in the +arm. He's awful good!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Not fur mine,' I says. 'He can run fur Sweeney when he ain't got no +hop in him. Just let some sassy hoss look him in the eye fur two jumps +'n' he'll holler, "Please, mister, don't!" Yea, bo',' I says, 'I know +this pup too well. When he's carryin' my kale he'll be shoutin' +hallelooyah with a big joy pill under his belt.' +</P> + +<P> +"I furgets all about ole man Sanford bein' there. You don't talk about +hoppin' one with strangers listening but he's around so much I never +thinks. All of a sudden he's standin' in front of me lookin' like +there's somethin' hurtin' him. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the matter, Mr. Sanford?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I gathah from yoh convahsation,' says he, 'that it is yoh practise to +supplement the fine courage that God has given the thoroughbred with +vile stimulants. Am I correct in this supposition, suh?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, yes—' I says, kind-a took back. 'When they need it I sure +gives it to 'em.' +</P> + +<P> +"Ole man Sanford draws hisself up 'n' looks at me like I'm a toad. +</P> + +<P> +"'Suh,' he says, 'the man who does that degrades himself and the +helpless creature that Providence has placed in his keeping! Not only +that, suh, but he insults the name of the thoroughbred and all it +stands for, still tendahly cherished by some of us. Ah have heard of +this abhorant practise that has come as a part of this mercenary age, +and, suh, Ah abominate both it and the man who would be guilty of such +an act!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, look-a here, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'They're all doin' it. If +you're goin' to train hosses you've got to get in the band wagon. If +<I>you</I> can't give the owner a run fur his money he'll find somebody to +train 'em who can!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Do you mean to tell me, suh, the wonderful courage displayed by that +mayah when the time came, was false?' says ole man Sanford, pointin' at +Très Jolie's stall. 'Ah saw strong men, the backbone of this state, +suh,' he says, 'watch that mayah come home with tears in their eyes. +Were their natures moved to the depths by an insulting counterfeit of +greatness?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, sure not!' I says. 'But all hosses ain't like this mare.' +</P> + +<P> +"'They are not, suh!' says ole man Sanford. 'Noh were they intended to +be! But few of us are ordained foh the heights. However,' he says, +puttin' his hand on my shoulder, 'Ah should not censure you too +strongly, young man. In fohcing yoh hawsses to simulate qualities they +do not possess, you are only a part of yoh times. This is the day of +imitation—I find it between the covahs of yoh books—I hear it in the +music yoh applaud—I see it riding by in motah-cars. Imitation—all +imitation!' +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't hep to this line of chatter—it's by me. But I dopes it out +he's sore at automobiles, +</P> + +<P> +"'What's wrong with 'em?' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah don't feel qualified to answer yoh question, suh,' he says. 'Ah +believe the blind pursuit and worship of riches is almost entirely +responsible. It has bred a shallowness and superficiality in and +towahds the finah things of life. But the historian will answer yoh +question at a later day. He can bring a calmness to the task which is +impossible to one surrounded and bewildered by it all.' +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't any wiser'n I was, but I don't say nothin'. The old man acts +like he's studyin' about somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who owns the hawss that just trialed three-quahtahs in fohteen?' he +says, after while. +</P> + +<P> +"'Jim Sigsbee up at Cynthiana,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is Mr. Sigsbee awaheh of the—method you pursue with regahd to +falsely stimulating his hawss?' says ole man Sanford. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, I guess yes!' I says. 'Jim won't bet a dollar on him unless +he's got the hop in him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah shall write to him,' says ole man Sanford, 'n' beats it down the +track toward the gates. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see him fur over a week. I figger he's sore at me fur dopin' +hosses. It's a funny thing but, I'm a son-of-a-gun if I don't miss the +ole duck. From the way they talk I see the boys kind-a miss him, too. +</P> + +<P> +"'I wonder where ole Pierpont's at?' I hears Chick say to Skinny. +'Gone East to see one of his hosses prepped fur the Brooklyn, I guess.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Naw,' says Skinny; 'you got that wrong. He's goin' to send a stable +to Urope, 'n' Todd Sloan's tryin' to get a contrac' from him as +exercise-boy. Ole Pierpont's watchin' Todd work out a few so he kin +size up his style.' +</P> + +<P> +"I've wrote Jim Sigsbee Trampfast's ready, but I don't enter the hoss +'cause I know Jim wants to come over 'n' bet a piece of money on him. +I don't hear from Jim, 'n' I wonder why. +</P> + +<P> +"One day I'm settin' in front of the stalls 'n' here comes ole man +Sanford down the line. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, hello, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'We sort-a figgered you'd quit us. +Things ain't gone right since you left. The boys need you to keep 'em +on their toes.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah have not deserted you intentionally, suh,' he says. 'Since Ah saw +you last an old friend of mine has passed to his rewahd. The Hono'able +James Tullfohd Fawcett is no moh, suh—a gallant gentleman has left us.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's too bad,' I says. 'Did he leave a family?' +</P> + +<P> +"'He did not, suh,' says ole man Sanford. 'Ah fell heir to his entiah +estate, only excepting the silvah mug presented to his beloved mothah +at his birth by Andrew Jackson himself, suh. This he bequeathed to the +public, and it will soon be displayed at the rooms of the Historical +Society named in his last will and testament.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Did you get much out of it?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He had already endowed me with a friendship beyond price, suh,' he +says. 'His estate was not a large one as such things go—some twelve +hundred dollahs, I believe.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's better'n breakin' a leg,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You will, perhaps, be interested to learn,' he says, 'that Ah have +pu'chased the hawss Trampfast with a po'tion of the money. Hyah is a +lettah foh you from Mr. Sigsbee relative to the mattah.' He hands me a +letter, but I can't hardly read it—his buyin' this hop-head gets my +goat. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Race him?' +</P> + +<P> +"'That is ma intention, suh,' he says. 'Ah expect to keep him in yoh +hands. But, of co'se, suh, the hawss will race on his merits and +without any sawt of stimulant.' +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't stuck on the proposition. The Trampfast hoss can't beat a +cook stove without the hop. I hate to see the ole man burn up his +dough on a dead one. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'times has changed since you raced. If +you'll let me handle this hoss to suit myself I think I can make a +piece of money fur you. The game ain't like it was once, 'n' if you +try to pull the stuff that got by thirty years ago, they'll trim you +right down to the suspenders. They ain't nothin' crooked about +slippin' the hop into a hoss that needs it.' +</P> + +<P> +"'As neahly as I can follow yoh fohm of speech,' says ole man Sanford, +'you intend to convey the impression that the practise of stimulating a +hawss has become entirely propah. Am I correct, suh?' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's it,' I says. ''N' you can gamble I'm right.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Is the practise allowed under present day racing rules?' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' I think I've got him goin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, sure not,' I says. 'But how long would a guy last if he never +broke a racin' rule?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Out of yoh own mouth is yoh augument condemned, suh,' says ole man +Sanford. 'Even in this day and generation the rules fohbid it—and let +me say, suh, that should a trainah, a jockey, or any one connected with +a stable of mine, be guilty of wilfully violating a racing rule, Ah +would discharge him at once, suh!' +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>You goin' to race on the level all the time</I>?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'If by that expression you mean hono'ably and as a gentleman—yes, +suh!' +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>Good night, nurse</I>!' I says. 'You'll go broke quick at that game!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Allow me to remind you that that is ma own affaih, suh,' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' the argument's over. His ideas date back so far they're +mildewed, but I see I can't change 'em. He don't belong around a race +track no more'n your grandmother! +</P> + +<P> +"'All right, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'You're the doctor! We'll handle +him just like you say.' +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee Simpson has come over to chew the rag with me, 'n' he hears +most of this talk. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait till I call the boys,' he says, when ole man Sanford goes in to +look at the hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"'What fur?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Family prayers,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"I throws a scraper at him, 'n' he goes on down the line singin', +<I>Onward, Christian Soldiers</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"Ole man Sanford orders a set of silks. He's got to send away fur the +kind he wants 'n' he won't let me start his hoss till they come. +Nobody but big stables pays attention to colors, so I tries to talk him +out of the notion,—nothin' doin'! +</P> + +<P> +"'Ma colors were known and respected in days gone by, suh,' he says. +'Ah owe it to the public who reposed confidence in the puhple and +white, to fly ma old flag when Ah once moh take the field. Yes, suh.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Purple 'n' white!' I says. 'Them's the colors of the McVay stable!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah was breeding stake hawsses, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'when his +mothah's milk was not yet dry upon the lips of young McVay.' +</P> + +<P> +"When the silks come, I picks out a real soft spot for Trampfast. It's +a six furlong ramble fur has-beens 'n' there's sure a bunch of kioodles +in it! Most of 'em ought to be on crutches. My hoss has showed me the +distance in fourteen, 'n' that's about where this gang'll stagger home. +With the hop in him the Trampfast hoss'll give me two seconds better. +He ought to be a swell bet. But the hop puts all the heart in him +there is—he ain't got one of his own. If he runs empty he'll lay down +sure. I can't hop him, so I won't bet on him with counterfeit money. +</P> + +<P> +"The mawnin' of the race ole man Sanford's at the stalls bright 'n' +early. He's chipper as a canary. He watches Chick hand-rub the hoss +fur a while 'n' then he pulls out a roll 'n' eases Chick two bucks. I +pipes off the roll. The ole man sees me lookin' at it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ah intend to wageh moderately today,' he says. 'And Ah have brought +a small sum with me foh the puhpose.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What you goin' to bet on?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ma own hawss, of co'se, suh,' he says. 'It is ma custom to back only +ma own hawsses or those of ma friends.' +</P> + +<P> +"I don't say nothin'. I'm wise by this time, he plays the game to suit +hisself, but it sure makes me sick. I hate as bad to see the ole man +lose his dough as if it's mine. +</P> + +<P> +"I goes over 'n' sets down on the track fence. +</P> + +<P> +"'When you train a hoss fur a guy you do like he says, don't you?' I +says to myself. 'You don't own this hoss, 'n' the owner don't want him +hopped. They ain't but one answer—don't hop him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'But look-a here,' I says back to myself. 'If you sees a child in +wrong, you tells him to beat it, don't you? It ain't your child, is +it? Well, this ole man ain't nothin' but a child. If he was, he'd let +you hop the hoss, 'n' make a killin' fur him.' I argues with myself +this way, but they can't neither one of us figger it out to suit the +other. +</P> + +<P> +"'I wish the damned ole fool had somebody else a-trainin' his dog!' I +thinks after I've set there a hour 'n' ain't no further along 'n I was +when I starts. +</P> + +<P> +"When it's gettin' towards post time, ole man Sanford hikes fur the +stand. +</P> + +<P> +"'Skinny,' I says, 'amble over to the bettin' shed 'n' watch what the +ole man does. As soon as he's got his kale down, beat it back here on +the jump, 'n' tell me how much he gets on 'n' what the odds are.' +</P> + +<P> +"In about ten minutes here comes Skinny at a forty shot. +</P> + +<P> +"'He bets a hundred straight at fifteen-to-one! What do you know about +that?' he hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"'That settles it!' I says. 'Chick, get them two bottles that's hid +under the rub-rags in the trunk! Now, ole Holler-enough,' I says to +the Tramp, 'you may be a imitation hoss, but we're goin' to make you +look so much like the real thing your own mother won't know you!…' +</P> + +<P> +"When Trampfast starts fur the paddock, his eyes has begun to roll 'n' +he's walkin' proud. +</P> + +<P> +"'He thinks he's the Zar of Rushy,' says Chick. 'He'll be seein' pink +elephants in a minute.' +</P> + +<P> +"I don't find ole man Sanford till they're at the post. He's standin' +by the fence at the wire. +</P> + +<P> +"The start's bein' held up by the Tramp. He's sure puttin' on a +show—the hop's got him as wild as a eagle. It's too far away fur the +ole man to see good, so I don't put him hep it's his hoss that's +cuttin' the didoes. +</P> + +<P> +"Just then Chick comes up. +</P> + +<P> +"'I hear you get a nice bet down on your hoss, Mr. Sanford,' he says. +'I sure hope he cops.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Thank you, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'I only placed a small +wageh, but at vehy liberal odds. Ah shall profit materially should he +win his race.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If he gets away good he'll roll,' says Chick. 'There's no class to +that bunch, 'n' he's a bear with a shot in him. But he's a bad actor +when he's hopped—look at the fancy stuff he's pullin' now!' +</P> + +<P> +"'You are mistaken, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'This hawss has had +no stimulant <I>to-day</I>.' +</P> + +<P> +"Like a nut I've furgot to tell the boys the ole man ain't on. I tries +to give Chick the high sign, but he's watchin' the hosses, 'n' before I +can get to him he belches up the glad news. +</P> + +<P> +"'If <I>he</I> ain't hopped one never was!' he says. 'We put a fierce shot +in him. Look at him act if you don—' +</P> + +<P> +"I kick his shin off right there, but it's too late, ole man Sanford +gets pale as a rag. +</P> + +<P> +"'How dare you—' he says, 'n' stops. 'But Ah shall prevent it!' he +says, 'n' starts fur the judge's stand. He ain't got a chance—just +then they get away, 'n' he turns back to me when he hears the crowd +holler, 'They're off!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Young man,' he says, pointin' at me, 'n' he's shakin' like he's cold. +'What have Ah evah done to you to merit such treatment at yoh hands?' +</P> + +<P> +"I see there's no use to lie to him, so I gives it to him straight. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'the hoss can't win without it, 'n' I don't +want to see you lose your money.' +</P> + +<P> +"Ole man Sanford sort-a wilts. He seems to get smaller. I've never +noticed how old he is till now. He stands a-lookin' at me like he +never sees me before. +</P> + +<P> +"The crowd begins to yell as the hosses hit the stretch. The Tramp is +out in front, 'n' he stays there all the way. +</P> + +<P> +"The ole man never even looks towards the track. +</P> + +<P> +"'He wins easy,' says Chick as they go under the wire, 'n' all you can +hear is 'Trampfast! Trampfast!' but ole man Sanford still keeps +a-starin' at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'You want to cheer up, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'You win a nice bet on +him.' +</P> + +<P> +"He pulls the tickets out of his pocket 'n' looks at 'em. They call +fur sixteen hundred bucks. +</P> + +<P> +"'As Ah have told you once befoh, young man,' he says, a-lookin' at the +tickets. 'Ah can not blame you greatly, because you are paht of yoh +times. This is the excuse Ah find foh you in thinking Ah would value +money moh than the spohtsmanship of a gentleman. Yoh times are bad, +young man!' he says. 'They have succeeded in staining the puhple and +white at the vehy end. Ah would neveh have raced afteh to-day. It was +a whim of an old man to see his colohs once moh among a field of +hawses. Ah knew Ah was not of this day. Ah should have known bettah +than to become a paht of it even foh a little time. Ah have learned ma +lesson,' he says, lookin' up at me. 'But you have made it vehy bittah.' +</P> + +<P> +"He looks down at the tickets again fur a minute… Then he tears +'em across three ways 'n' drops 'em on the ground." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CLASS +</H3> + + +<P> +"What do you like in the handicap?" I asked, looking up from the form +sheet. +</P> + +<P> +Blister reached for the paper. +</P> + +<P> +"Indigo's the class," he said, after a glance at the entries. "If they +run to form, he'll cop." +</P> + +<P> +"There you go again—with your <I>class</I>!" I exclaimed. "You're always +talking about class. What does class mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Long as you've been hangin' 'round the track 'n' not know what class +means!" Blister looked at me pityingly. "There's no <I>class</I> to that," +he added, with a grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Seriously now," I urged. "Explain it to me. Class, as you call it, +is beaten right along. Just the other day you said Exponent was the +class and should have won, but he didn't." +</P> + +<P> +"He has the most left at that," said Blister. "He wins in three more +jumps. You can't beat class. It'll come back fur more." +</P> + +<P> +"Molly S. beat him," I insisted. +</P> + +<P> +"Yep, she beat him that one race," Blister admitted. "But how does she +beat him? Do you notice the boy gets her away wingin' 'n' keeps her +there all the trip?… Why? Because he knows she can't come from +behind 'n' win. If the old hoss gets to her any place in the stretch +she lays down to him sure. She ain't got the class 'n' he has. She +can win a race now 'n' then when things break right fur her, but the +Exponent hoss'll win anyway—on three legs if he has to. He's got the +class." +</P> + +<P> +"How can you get horses with class?" I inquired. "By breeding?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you want it you lay down big coin fur it," Blister answered. "It +follows blood lines some, but not all the time. I've seed awful dogs +bred clear to the clouds. Then again it'll show in a weanlin'. I've +seed sucklin' colts with class stickin' out all over 'em. Kids has it, +too. It shows real young sometimes." +</P> + +<P> +"How can a child show anything like that?" I remonstrated. "He has no +opportunity. Class, as I understand it, is deep-seated—part of the +very fiber. It takes a big situation to bring it out. Where did you +ever see a child display this quality?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've seed it many a time in little dirty-faced swipes," Blister +stated. "I've seed exercise-boys so full of class they put the silks +on 'em before they can bridle a hoss, 'n' they bawl like you've took +away their apple when they lose their first race. You've heard of +Hamilton?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have been told he is the best sire in America," I replied, wondering +where this question led. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't say that," said Blister. "There's a lot of good hosses at +stud in this land-of-the-free-when-you-pay-fur-it, but he's up there +with the best of 'em. Did you know I owns him once myself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not the great Hamilton?" I protested. +</P> + +<P> +"Yep, the great all-the-time, anyhow-'n'-any-place Hamilton," Blister +assured me. "'N' speakin' of class in kids 'n' colts, lemme tell you +about it." He reached for his "makin's" and I waited while he rolled a +cigarette, this process being a necessary prelude to a journey into his +past. +</P> + +<P> +"The year Seattle Sam goes down 'n' out," the words came in a cloud of +cigarette smoke, "I'm at Saratoga. This Seattle is one of the big +plungers, his nod's good with the bookies fur anything he wants to lay, +'n' he sure bets 'em to the sky. He owns a grand string of hosses, 'n' +when one of 'em's out to win, believe me, he carries the coin!" +</P> + +<P> +"All the same they get him at last 'n' there ain't nothin' else talked +about fur a couple of days when the word goes 'round that he's cleaned. +The bunch acts like somebody's dead. They whisper when they tell it. +It's got 'em dazed. +</P> + +<P> +"In them days there's a little squirt called Micky that hangs around +the track. He ain't got a regular job; he just picks up odd mounts on +a work-out now 'n' then. He don't weigh eighty pounds, but he's +fresher'n a bucket of paint. His right name's Vincent Mulligan, 'n' +his mother's a widow woman. I learns that 'cause the old lady sends a +truant officer out to the track after him one day, 'n' the cop puts me +wise after Micky has clumb through a stall window, 'n' give him the +slip. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you big truck hoss,' says Micky to the bull as he skidoos +through the window, 'you couldn't catch a cold at the north pole in yer +dirty undershirt!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why don't you go to school like you'd ought, Vincent?' I says to +Micky, when he shows up the next day. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. 'Say, are you ever goin' to let me +work one of yer dogs out in place of that smoke?' he says, pointin' at +Snowball, my exercise-boy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who you callin' a smoke?' says Snowball, startin' fur Micky. 'I'll +slap the ugly I'ish mouth off you!' +</P> + +<P> +"Micky picks up a pitchfork. +</P> + +<P> +"'Go awn, you black boob!' he says. 'If I reaches fer yer gizzard with +this tickler, I gets it!' +</P> + +<P> +"Snowball backs up. I grabs the fork from the little shrimp. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, you beat it!' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. He lays down on a bail of straw 'n' +pulls his hat over his face. 'If any guy bothers me while I'm gettin' +my rest,' he says, 'call a hearse. Don't wake me up till some guy +wants a hoss worked out.' +</P> + +<P> +"One day I goes to lay a piker's bet in Ike Rosenberg's book. +</P> + +<P> +"'All across on Tantrum,' I says to Ike. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hello, Blister,' says Ike, when he goes to hand me the ticket. 'I +like that one myself. Go over 'n' lay me a hundred 'n' fifty the same +way,—here's the change.' +</P> + +<P> +"When I bring Ike his ticket he tells me to wait a minute, 'n' pretty +soon he puts a sheet-writer on the block 'n' steps down. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come over here,' he says, 'n' I trails him out of the bettin' shed. +'I've took a two-year-old for a thousand dollar marker of Seattle's,' +says Ike, swingin' 'round on me. 'You want him?' +</P> + +<P> +"'To train, you mean?' I says, 'Is that it?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sure,' says Ike. 'You can have him on shares if you want.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Tell me about him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' says Ike, 'he's a big little hoss made good all over. He +ain't never started yet, but he's been propped for two months. He's by +Edgemont. First dam, Cora, by Musketeer. Second dam, Débutante, by +Peddler. Third dam, Daisy Dean, by Salvation. Fourth dam, Iole, by +Messenger. He's registered as Hamilton, 'n' that's all I know.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's sure some breedin',' I says. 'But I never takes a colt on +shares. I'll handle him fur you as careful as I know how 'n' it'll +cost you fifty a month. That's the best I can do.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll send him over this evenin',' says Ike. 'Let me know what you +think of him after he works out for you.' +</P> + +<P> +"I like this Hamilton colt the minute I gets my lamps on him. He ain't +over fifteen hands, but he's all hoss. He'll weigh right at nine +hundred, 'n' that's quite a chunk of a two-year-old. He's got a fine +little head on him 'n' his eye has the right look. A good game hoss'll +look at you like a eagle. I don't want nothin' to do with a sheep-eyed +pup. This colt has a eye like a game cock. +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee Simpson is at my stalls when they brings the colt over, 'n' +after we've sized him up I asks Peewee what he thinks of the little +rooster. +</P> + +<P> +"'Him?' says Peewee. 'He's a bear-cat. I'll bet he entertains you +frequent 'n' at short notice. I don't figger him related to Mary's +lamb, not any. You better keep your eye on little Hamilton. Hammy's +likely to be a naughty boy any time.' +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee's got the correct hunch—the first time Snowball takes him out +Hamilton runs off 'n' the boy don't get him stopped till he romps five +miles. +</P> + +<P> +"'Can't you stop him sooner'n that?' I says to Snowball when he's back. +</P> + +<P> +"Micky's at the stalls that mawnin', 'n' he butts in, as usual. +</P> + +<P> +"'Stop him!' he says. 'That black boob couldn't stop a hoss in a box +stall. Lemme me have him next work-out!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll let you have a slap on the ear,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"Next work-out day Hamilton pulls off the same stunt. He's feelin' +extra good that mawnin', I guess, 'cause he makes a nine mile trip of +it. Micky stands there with me, watchin' the colt go round 'n' round +the track. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why don't you can that choc'lit drop,' he says, ''n' put a white man +up?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Meanin' you?' I says. 'You'd holler fur your milk bottle before he +goes a eighth with you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"I borrows a curb 'n' chain from Eddy Murphy—he's been usin' it on ole +Dandelion. It's fierce—you can bust a hoss's jaw with it. I puts it +on Hamilton next work-out. +</P> + +<P> +"'I guess that'll hold little Hammy,' I says, when Snowball's up. But +it don't. The colt ain't any more'n felt the curb when he bolts into +the fence 'n' chucks Snowball off. I starts to catch the hoss, but +Micky gets to him first 'n' grabs him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lemme give him a whirl,' he says. 'Come on—be a sport fur a change!' +</P> + +<P> +"Snowball rolls away from the colt 'n' picks hisself up. +</P> + +<P> +"'He is shoh welcome to him,' he says. 'I got no moh use foh him.' +</P> + +<P> +"I studies a minute, lookin' at Micky. He don't come much above +Hamilton's knee. He's lookin' at me like a pup beggin' fur a bone. +</P> + +<P> +"'Go to it, you ornery little shrimp!' I says at last. 'If a worse +pair ever gets together I've never seed it!' +</P> + +<P> +"Micky gives a yelp like a terrier. +</P> + +<P> +"'Take off this bit 'n' put a straight bar on him,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you couldn't hold one of his ears with a bar bit,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who's ridin' this hoss?' says Micky. 'Go awn, get the bit!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Get him what he wants,' I says to Snowball. +</P> + +<P> +"We leads the colt on to the track, when the bits is changed, 'n' just +as I throws Micky up I see he's got a bat. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you goin' to do with that?' I says. 'You need a parachute, not +a whip!' +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>I</I> always ride 'em with a bat. Turn him loose,' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's the same thing over again, the colt runs off. All Micky +does is to keep him in the track. I see he ain't pullin' a pound. +They've gone about six mile 'n' Hamilton begins to slow a little. Just +then Micky lights into him with the bat. +</P> + +<P> +"'Look at dat!' says Snowball. 'He's los' his min'.' +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>No, he ain't</I>!' I says. '<I>He's there forty ways</I>!' I've just begun +to tumble the kid's wise as owls. 'Oh, you Micky!' I hollers. 'Go to +it, you white boy!' +</P> + +<P> +"I hate to tell you how far that kid works the hoss. He keeps handin' +him the bat every other jump. It gets so I can run as fast as they're +movin' 'n' Hamilton's just prayin' fur help. I'm afraid he'll jim the +colt fur good, so I yells at Micky to cut it out, when he comes by. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come down off of that, you squirt!' I says. 'Do you want to kill the +colt?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' he says, 'n' 'round they go again. When +Hamilton ain't got more'n a good stagger left, Micky rides him through +the gate to the stall. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, pony,' he says to Hamilton, 'don't start nothin' you can't +finish.' +</P> + +<P> +"The trip kills a ordinary hoss, but they ain't nothin' ordinary about +this Hamilton. I learns <I>that</I> then. We cools him out good 'n' in +three days he's kickin' the roof off the stall. +</P> + +<P> +"Come work-out day Micky goes up on Hamilton. Say, the colt eats out +of his hand. Micky's got him buffaloed right. He gallops Hamilton a +nice mile 'n' pulls up at the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"'What do you want him to do now? Stand on his head?' he says. 'Times +is dull.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Shoot him three furlongs,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Shoot is the word,' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"Hamilton romps the three furlongs in nothin' flat—I'm tickled sick. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's a bear!' I says to Micky at the stalls. ''N' as fur you—you're +on the pay-roll.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you're a live one, ain't you?' says Micky. 'Wait till I go +chase the Smoke!' The next thing I see is Snowball goin' down the line +like a quarter hoss, 'n' Micky's proddin' at him with a pitchfork. +</P> + +<P> +"'He won't be back,' says Micky, when he's puttin' up the fork. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, look-a here,' I says, 'you got to cut this rough stuff, if you +works fur me.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Right then I gets him by the collar, 'n' takes a bat from the rack. I +works on him till the bat's wore out 'n' then reaches fur another. +Micky ain't opened his face. I wears that one out 'n' grabs another. +Micky looks up at the rack—there's four more bats left. +</P> + +<P> +"'Nix on number three!' he yells. 'I'm listenin' to you!' +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' I says, hangin' up the bat. 'Now, listen good. <I>Cut out +this rough stuff</I>—you got me?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I got you,' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"I tells Ike he's got a good colt, but only one boy can ride him. Ike +comes over to the stalls with me to see the boy 'n' Hamilton. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not that kid?' he says, when he takes a slant at Micky. 'A +hobby-hoss lets him out.' +</P> + +<P> +"Micky goes straight up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you fat-headed Kike!' he says. 'The only thing you can tell me +about a hoss is how much the nails cost to hold his shoes on.' +</P> + +<P> +"Ike turns to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Don't never let that boy throw a leg over a hoss of mine again,' he +says. 'Enter this colt in the two-year-old scramble Friday. I'll get +Whitman to ride. I guess <I>he'll</I> hold him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, look at that!' I says to Micky when Ike's gone. 'You <I>will</I> +shoot off your face, won't you? Ain't you <I>never</I> goin' to learn to +keep that loud trap of yours closed?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, you go—' Micky stops there. +</P> + +<P> +"I takes a step towards the whip rack. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come on—' I says, 'let's hear from you!' +</P> + +<P> +"'—to hell with the big Kike!' says Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"'Does that let me in?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Micky studies a minute lookin' at me 'n' the bats in the rack. +</P> + +<P> +"'Naw—just the Kike,' he says at last. +</P> + +<P> +"When Whitman's up on Hamilton, before they goes to the post, I tries +to put him wise. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're on a bad actor, Whitty,' I says. 'If you ain't on your toes, +he runs off with you sure.' This Whitman's a star, 'n' nobody knows it +better'n him. +</P> + +<P> +"'What do <I>you</I> hire a jock fur?' he says. 'Why don't you train 'n' +ride both?' +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' I says. 'I'm <I>tellin'</I> you now!' +</P> + +<P> +"'If this hoss is ready,' says Whitman, 'you've earned your +money—don't work overtime.' +</P> + +<P> +"I goes through the paddock 'n' out on the lawn. Before I'm there I +hears the crowd yellin'. When I can see the track, there's the field +at the post all but Hamilton. He 'n' Whitty has made a race all to +theirselves. It turns out to be a six mile ramble with only one entry. +</P> + +<P> +"I goes to the stand 'n' scratches Hamilton while he's still runnin'. +The field waits at the post till they get a clear track. +</P> + +<P> +"'I didn't know this was a distance race,' I says to Whitty when he +gets down. Whitty's sore as a crab, the bunch'll mention it to him the +rest of the season. +</P> + +<P> +"'You don't want a jock on this thing,' he says. 'A engineer is what +he needs.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sell him,' is the first words Ike says to me when I sees him. +</P> + +<P> +"'<I>Sell him</I>?' I says. 'You must be drunk! Why, he don't bring a ten +case note. Everybody's hep he's a bolter. Now listen! This is a real +good colt, 'n' I know it; but the bunch don't. That boy of mine can +ride him. If you gives the colt another chance with my boy up, he +shows 'em somethin'. Then you can get a price fur him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Do what you like with him,' says Ike. 'But I don't pay out another +simoleon on him! I'm through right now!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Give me half what he wins his next out 'n' <I>I'll</I> take a chance with +him,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're on,' says Ike. 'But you pay the entrance.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Surest thing you know,' I says, 'n' goes over to the stalls. +</P> + +<P> +"In two weeks there's to be a handicap fur two-year-olds. It's worth +three thousand to the winner. It's the best baby race at the meetin'. +Hamilton'll come in awful light 'n' he'll get five pounds apprentice +allowance fur Micky; but it'll put a big crimp in my roll to pay the +entrance. I studies over it some 'n' I gets cold feet. It takes three +hundred bones to sit in. I've about decided it's too rich fur my +blood, when next work-out day comes 'n' Hamilton works four furlongs, +with Micky up, like a cyclone. That gets my circulation goin' 'n' I +takes a shot at it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who's burning this up on the ten mile wonder?' says the sec. to me, +when I'm payin' the entrance. 'The work seems a little coarse for my +old friend Ike.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm Smiling Faces this load of poles,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, Blister,' says the sec. 'I never thought it of you! But we're +much obliged to you just the same.' +</P> + +<P> +"There's eight starters in the handicap besides Hamilton. One of 'em's +a big clumsy colt named Hellespont. The bunch calls him the Elephant, +'n' he's sour as lemons. I see his eyes a-rollin' in the paddock, 'n' +I know he's hopped. Just as the parade starts he begins to cut the +mustard. He rears 'n' tries to come down all spraddled out on the colt +ahead of him in the line, but the jock runs him into a stall 'n' they +take hold of him till the rest is out on the track. +</P> + +<P> +"Micky ain't had no experience at the post. I've borrowed a pair of +glasses 'n' I'm watchin' the get-a-way pretty anxious. Hamilton's +actin' fine, but the Elephant is holdin' up the start. All of a sudden +he rears clear up 'n' comes down across Hamilton. The colt does a flop +'n' I see the Elephant rear 'n' stamp him a couple a times before the +assistant drives him off with the bull whip." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-258"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-258.jpg" ALT=""I see the Elefant stamp him."" BORDER="2" WIDTH="539" HEIGHT="403"> +<H3> +[Illustration: "I see the Elefant stamp him."] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"'Good-by, three hundred!' I says to myself, I can't see good fur the +dust, but they pulls Micky out from under the colt, 'n' when I gets +another slant, Hamilton's on his feet 'n' the starter's talkin' at +Micky. I can see Micky shakin' his head. It ain't long till they puts +him up again. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's the good game kid!' I says out loud. 'Oh, you 'Micky boy!' +also out loud. +</P> + +<P> +"They get off to a nice start. When they hit the stretch I throws my +hat away. Hamilton's in front two lengths. A eighth from home I see +there's somethin' wrong with Micky. He's got his bat 'n' lines in his +left mitt. His right hook is kind-a floppin' at his side, but +Hamilton's runnin' true 'n' strong. The colt looks awful good to the +sixteenth 'n' then his gait goes clear to the bad. I see he's all shot +to pieces behind, 'n' he's stoppin' fast. I'm standin' at the inner +rail ten len'ths from the wire, 'n' the Elephant colt gets to Hamilton +right in front of me. +</P> + +<P> +"'I gotcha, jock!' yells the boy on the Elephant. +</P> + +<P> +"'They don't pay off here,' says Micky, 'n' sticks the lines in his +face. Then he goes to the bat with his south hook 'n' Hamilton lays +back his ears 'n' runs true again.… He out-games the Elephant a +nod at the wire 'n' I'm twelve hundred to the clear. +</P> + +<P> +"When I gets to 'em, Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against +Hamilton. The colt's shakin' all over 'n' his hind feet's in a big +pool of blood. I gives a' look 'n' the left rear tendon is tore off +from hock to fetlock. +</P> + +<P> +"'Good God, look at that!' I says to Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"Micky turns 'n' looks. +</P> + +<P> +"'Aw, pony …' he says, 'n' busts out cryin'. He leans up against +the colt again 'n' he's shakin' as bad as Hamilton. +</P> + +<P> +"Just then the boy gets down from the Elephant. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd a beat that dog in another jump,' he says to Micky. +</P> + +<P> +"'You?' says Micky. 'I'm goin' to <I>kill you</I>!' He starts fur the boy, +but he turns kind-a greeny white 'n' does a flop on the track. +</P> + +<P> +"When I goes to pick him up I see a bone comin' through the flesh just +above the wrist on his right hook. +</P> + +<P> +"We puts him in a blanket 'n' the swipes start to carry him off. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's the matter with the kid?' says Ike comin' up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Arm broke, I guess,' I says." +</P> + +<P> +"Ike sees the blood 'n' walks behind Hamilton. +</P> + +<P> +"'I wish it was his neck,' he says, pointin' at the tendon. 'That's +what you get fur puttin' a pin-headed apprentice on a good hoss! Get +him so he can hobble, 'n' sell him to a livery if you can. If not, +have him shot.' +</P> + +<P> +"Hamilton's standin' there a-shakin'. His eyes has the look you always +sees in a hoss just after he's ruined. +</P> + +<P> +"'What'll you take fur him?' I says to Ike. +</P> + +<P> +"'Take fur him?' he says. 'Whatever he'll bring. I ain't out nothin' +on him. I splits three thousand with you to the race.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You owe me a hundred 'n' thirty fur trainin',' I says. 'I calls it +off 'n' keeps the hoss.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You've bought him,' says Ike, 'n' goes back to the bettin' shed. +</P> + +<P> +"They take Micky to the hospital. The doc says his arm's broke 'n' +he's hurt inside. He comes to before they puts him in the ambulance. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why didn't you let another boy ride?' says the assistant starter, +who's helpin' the doc. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ride hell!' says Micky. 'He runs off with them other boobs.' +</P> + +<P> +"Me 'n' Peewee Simpson gets Hamilton to the stall. It takes him just +one hour to do that hundred yards, but I've got a tight bandage above +the hock 'n' he don't bleed so bad. +</P> + +<P> +"'Can you get him so he can walk?' I says to the vet. when he's looked +at the colt. +</P> + +<P> +"'Yes,' he says; 'but that'll be about all for him. I advise you to +have him destroyed. What hoss <I>is</I> this?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Hamilton,' I says. 'He just wins the colt race.' +</P> + +<P> +"'So?' he says. 'I didn't see it. When did <I>this</I> happen?' +</P> + +<P> +"'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?' +</P> + +<P> +"'He did,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'On <I>that</I>?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do, +kid me?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter +a damn to me whether you believe it or not!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, you <I>ain't</I> kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute—' +</P> + +<P> +"He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more. +</P> + +<P> +"'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What did you ever buy <I>him</I> for?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton. +</P> + +<P> +"'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?' +</P> + +<P> +"I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round +the colt a couple a times. +</P> + +<P> +"'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off +your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight—<I>this +hoss wont never do more than walk</I>. But he's bred out a sight 'n' I +like his looks. There's a chance somebody could use him in the stud. +I'm willin' to get him in some sort-a shape 'n' see if I can't make a +piece of money on him. What do you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Well,' I says, 'you're fixed better to get him in shape'n me. I just +wanted to give the little hoss a show. If <I>you'll</I> give it to him, +he's yours.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Here's your money,' says the vet. 'I'll send my wagon for him +to-morrow. Let me have a lantern till I get this leg so it won't hurt +him so bad to-night.' +</P> + +<P> +"The next day every paper I picks up has a great big write-up in it +about Micky 'n' the colt. Until the wagon comes fur him there's a +regular procession to the stall to look at Hamilton, 'n' when I goes to +the hospital that night you can't see Micky fur flowers around his bed. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'Do they think I'm a stiff?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sh-h-h!' says the sister that's nursin' him. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see Hamilton fur a month. One day I goes over to the big +Eastern sale at New York, just to hear ole Pappy Danforth sell 'em. +Pappy's stood on a block all his life. He knows every hoss-man in the +country. When <I>he</I> tells you about a hoss, it's right; 'n' everybody +takes his tip. He just about sells 'em where they ought to go. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a fierce crowd at the sale 'n' some grand stuff goes under the +hammer. Pappy kids the crowd along 'n' sells 'em so fast it makes you +dizzy. They don't more'n lead a hoss out till he's gone. +</P> + +<P> +"All of a sudden Pappy climbs clear up on the desk in front of him 'n' +stands there a minute, pushin' back his long white hair. +</P> + +<P> +"'Na-ow, boys!' he says. 'I'm goin' to sell you a three-legged hoss! +An'—listen to the ole man—he's wuth more'n any four-legged hoss, +livin' or dead!' +</P> + +<P> +"I rubbers hard to get a look at a hoss Pappy boosts like that, 'n' I +nearly croaks when they lead Hamilton into the ring. The colt's a +dink, right. He's stiff as a poker behind, but he's still got that +game-cock look to his eye. +</P> + +<P> +"'Na-ow, boys!' sings out Pappy, 'there's the biggest little hoss ever +you saw! Don't look at him—any of you fellahs that wants a yellah +dawg to win a cheap race with! <I>He</I> ain't in <I>that</I> class. Step +forwahd, you breeders, an' grasp a golden opportunity! Send the best +brood mares you've got to this little hoss … he's a giant! <I>You +hear me—a giant</I>! Ed Tumble, I'm talkin' to you! I'm talkin' to you, +Bill Masters—an' Harry Scott there … an' Judge Dillon … an' +all you big breeders! You've <I>read</I> what this little hoss done in the +newspapers. You can <I>see</I> his breedin' in your catalogues. You can +<I>look him over</I> as he stands there! But best of all—<I>listen to the +old man</I>! when he tells you he never held a hammer over a better one in +fifty years. Na-ow, boys! I'm goin' to sell him for the high dollah, +an' the man who gets him at any price … <I>you hear me—at any +price</I>!… is goin' to have the laugh on the rest of you fellahs! +Aw-l-l right—<I>what do I hear</I>?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Five hundred!' says some guy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, Frank, five hundred won't buy a hair out of his tail … <I>what +do I hear</I>?' says Pappy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Two thousand!' yells somebody. +</P> + +<P> +"'Na-ow listen, Tom, if you want the little hoss, cut out this triflin' +an' bid for him,' says Pappy. '<I>What do I hear</I>?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Five thousand!' some guy hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's just a nice little start … <I>what do I hear</I>?' says Pappy, +'n' I goes into a trance. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't come to till I hears Pappy sing out: +</P> + +<P> +"'So-o-ld to you for sixteen thousand dollahs, Mr. Humphrey, <I>an' you +never bought a cheaper one</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"It's a wonder I ain't run over gettin' to the depot. I don't know +where I'm at. I just keeps sayin' 'sixteen thousand—sixteen +thousand—' over 'n' over to myself. I beats it out to the hospital +when I gets back, to tell Micky. They're goin' to let him out in a day +or so 'n' Micky's settin' up in a chair with wheels to it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Give a guess what Hamilton brings in the Big Eastern,' I says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'I dunno,' says he. 'How much?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Sixteen thousand bucks!' I says. 'How does that lay on your +stummick?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'That ain't nothin'—look-a-here!' +</P> + +<P> +"He shoves a paper at me he's been holdin' in his mitt. It's a ridin' +contract fur two years with the Ogden stable at ten thousand a year. +</P> + +<P> +"So you see, just like I tells you," Blister wound up, "they lay down +real money fur <I>class</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"The man who bought the horse," I said, "certainly got what he paid +for—everybody knows <I>now</I> that Hamilton has class. But how about the +boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever see Vincent ride?" Blister looked at me inquiringly. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw him ride once in the English Derby," I replied. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Blister, "his mother lives in New York in a brownstone +house he bought her, with two Swede girls to do as much work as she'll +let 'em. When he comes home, she calls him 'Micky.' Is there class to +him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I said, "there's class to him." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +EXIT BUTSY +</H3> + + +<P> +"What's all them rubes got ribbons on 'em fur?" asked Blister. +</P> + +<P> +I followed his gaze to a group of variously garbed men and women who +had just rounded the paddock, and who slowly bore down upon us as they +drifted from stall to stall in a haphazard inspection of the great +racing plant at Latonia. Prominent upon the person of each member of +this party was a bountiful strip of yellow ribbon. The effect was +decidedly gay. +</P> + +<P> +I had encountered similar ribbons in every nook and cranny of the Queen +City during the last few days, and I knew that each bore in thirty-six +point Gothic condensed, the words, "Ohio State Grange." +</P> + +<P> +"Those are Ohio farmers and their wives who are attending a convention +in Cincinnati," I explained. "The ribbons are convention badges." +</P> + +<P> +Blister allowed the saddle girth he was mending to lie unnoticed across +his knees as the delegates by twos and threes straggled past. +</P> + +<P> +Each female member of the party carried a round paper fan with a cane +handle, and talked unceasingly. These streams of conversation were +entirely regardless of one another. It was as though many brooks +babbled onward side by side, but never joined. One fragment that +reached us, I preserved. +</P> + +<P> +"An' I sez to the doctor when he come, sez I, 'Doctor, I ain't held a +bite on my stummick these three livelong days!'" This was delivered by +a buxom dame, fanning vigorously the meanwhile, and was noteworthy +since the lady was closely followed by a little man whose frailty +suggested dissolution, and who bore a large lunch box under one arm and +a heavy child upon the other. +</P> + +<P> +The men appeared somewhat interested in the pampered nervous-looking +thoroughbreds, but made few comments. As compared to their women folk +they seemed more silent than the very tomb itself. +</P> + +<P> +Long after the grangers had drifted out of our sight, Blister's +thoughts seemed devoted to them. Several times he chuckled to himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Every time I see a bunch of rubes," he said at last, "it puts me in +mind of Butsy Trimble 'n' the new stalls at Lake Minnehaha Park." +</P> + +<P> +"Lake Minnehaha Park," I repeated. "I never heard of such a place." +</P> + +<P> +"It's up at Mount Clinton," Blister explained. "It's Ohio's beauty +spot." +</P> + +<P> +"Get out!" I scoffed. +</P> + +<P> +"Fact!" said Blister. "It says so right over the gates." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me about it," I demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"This ain't been so long ago," said Blister. "The meetin' here at +Latonia is about over. Ole Whiskers has put the game on the fritz in +New York, so everybody's studyin' where to ship when get-away day +comes, 'n' the whole bunch is sore as bears—you can't get a pleasant +word from nobody. +</P> + +<P> +"All I got in my string is some two-year-olds of Judge Dillon's. They +go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried +none—not about where to ship. +</P> + +<P> +"One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with +a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss +paper. +</P> + +<P> +"'Gimme high, jack, game—' says Peewee, after a hand. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I s'pose you want to count fur game—don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll +give it to you sooner'n argue with you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd +rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?' +</P> + +<P> +"'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't +hog game!' +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee lays down his cards. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this +bale of hay—it'll <I>poison</I> a hoss if <I>you</I> set on it much longer!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog +<I>it</I> like you does game?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where +she is till she makes her last flicker.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act +like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out +of this paper—us three can pull it off to a finish!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee +then to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around +here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!' +</P> + +<P> +"Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up. He shows us an ad in +his paper askin' fur entries to race over the Ohio Short Ship Circuit. +This circuit is a bunch of race meets that's held on the bull rings at +county fairs up through the state. They're trottin' races mostly, but +they give one runnin' race at a different town each week. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now,' says Butsy, 'I'm born 'n' raised in Mount Clinton, Ohio. I +sees the race meet there frequent 'n' she's a peach. You can have a +hoss lay down 'n' go to sleep on the track if you don't want him to win +'n' then tell the judges he's got spring fever. Everything goes except +murder. We'll take that black stud of mine 'n' Peewee's bay geldin' +'n' hit this punkin circuit. We can win a purse each week fur +travelin' expenses, 'n' what we cops on the side is velvet.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What do you want me fur?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why,' says Butsy, 'at these county fairs there ain't no bookies. +They just bets from hand to hand. While me 'n' Peewee rides, you +sashay out among the rubes 'n' get the coin down on whichever hoss we +frames to win.' +</P> + +<P> +"We sets there 'n' talks over the proposition most all night. Butsy +says it's a cinch 'n' it ain't long till me 'n' Peewee figgers he's got +it doped right. +</P> + +<P> +"'Let's go against it, Blister,' Peewee says to me. 'What do you say, +old pal?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm there with bells on,' I says, 'n' that settles it. I ships my +colts to Judge Dillon, 'n' the next week we start. +</P> + +<P> +"These punkin races is all half-mile dashes, best two out of three. +Peewee's geldin' is a distance hoss—he don't get goin' good under a +mile. In a bull-ring sprint he ain't got a chance with this black stud +of Butsy's. +</P> + +<P> +"Our game is to have Butsy turn his dash-hound loose the first heat. +Then I ambulates out among the rubes 'n' acts like I'm willing to bet +on the bay geldin'. If I finds a live one, Butsy takes his hoss up in +his lap the last two trips 'n' Peewee comes on 'n' grabs the gravy. +</P> + +<P> +"We figger the rubes'll eat it up after seein' that nice-lookin' black +stud romp away with the first heat. But right there the dope falls +down—the rubes ain't as dead as they look. +</P> + +<P> +"In the first town we strike I eases up to a tall Jasper after the +black hoss has grabbed the opener on the bit. +</P> + +<P> +"'Say, pardner,' I says, 'do you ever bet a piece of money on a race?' +</P> + +<P> +"This Jasper is just a Adam's apple surrounded by arms 'n' legs. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, I should say as much,' he says. 'But most ginrally they wan't +nobody bet with me. Up in Liberty Township the boys call me Lucky +Andy.' +</P> + +<P> +"'It's a crime to do this!' I says to myself. 'I'll make a little bet +with you, pardner,' I says out loud. 'Not much though—you're too +lucky!' +</P> + +<P> +"'How was ye calkewlatin' to bet?' says the Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"'This black hoss acted kind-a tired to me,' I says. 'I'll just bet +you twenty bucks he don't win the race.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You look like a smart little cuss,' he says. 'What's good enough fer +you is good enough fer me.' He beats it over to where another rube is +settin' in a buggy. 'Hi, Bill!' says my Jasper, 'I'll just bet ye +fifty cents the black hawse dun't win the race—even if I do lose!' +</P> + +<P> +"That's the way it goes right along—the rubes stay away from it. Once +in a while I finds a mark but not often. We win a purse though in +every town 'n' this just about pays expenses. We ain't makin' nothin' +much, but we ain't losin' nothin' neither. We're eatin' regular 'n' +enjoyin' ourselves, except Butsy. <I>He</I> wouldn't enjoy hisself at a dog +fight. +</P> + +<P> +"This Butsy Trimble is a thin solemn gink 'n' he almost never cracks a +smile. He's got it doped out that everybody's agin him. Peewee 'n' me +has knocked around together so much we knows each other's ways, but we +ain't never had much to do with this Butsy, so we ain't wise to him at +first. +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't long till Butsy begins to figger we're tryin' to hand it to +him. He gets sour-balled about everythin' we does. We try to kid him, +but he ain't hep to a kid 'n' he don't stand fur it like he'd ought. +His favorite stunt is to say he'll take his hoss 'n' quit. He springs +this right along. +</P> + +<P> +"From the start this trip gets to Peewee's funny bone. He don't do +nothin' but laugh. Butsy don't see nothin' funny about it, 'n' he gets +to thinkin' Peewee's laughin' at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee'll lay in the stall at night 'n' laugh 'n' laugh. Pretty soon +he'll get me goin', 'n' then we'll lay 'n' snort fur a hour. Butsy +can't go to sleep 'n' he gets wild. +</P> + +<P> +"'What th' hell are you laughin' at?' he says. 'If you don't cut this +out 'n' let me get my rest I'll quit the game tomorrow!' +</P> + +<P> +"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n' +Butsy'll quit. +</P> + +<P> +"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we +grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot—he +acts more cheerful right away. +</P> + +<P> +"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know +every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County +plow-pushers.' +</P> + +<P> +"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we +unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was. +</P> + +<P> +"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy. +</P> + +<P> +"'How do you get out?' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says +Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us +gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n' +we'll come out on the street-car.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out +the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll +just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Now, Butsy,' I says, 'have some sense! We ain't slippin' you +nothin'. I'd take the dogs 'n' leave you 'n' Peewee ride if I knew the +way. What do you want to make a crack about quittin' fur just as the +game's gettin' good?' I says. 'We cops a neat little bundle at our +last stop, 'n' we'll grab a nice piece of change here. I feel it in my +bones.' +</P> + +<P> +"'All right,' says Butsy. 'I'll be the goat just once more—but take +it from me this is the last time!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Send a wagon fur the trunk when you get up-town,' I says to Butsy +when he's goin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'Furget it!' he says. 'Put her on the street-car. The car runs right +into Minnehaha Park 'n' you can unload her in front of the stalls.' +</P> + +<P> +"'You can't take a trunk on a street-car,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Wait till you see this street-car,' says Butsy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ain't they but one?' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's all,' says Butsy. 'Orphy Shanner runs it.' +</P> + +<P> +"Me and Peewee stands a-waitin' fur the street-car fur thirty minutes, +then I goes into the freight depot office. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is the street-car runnin'?' I says to the old gazink at the desk. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ye can't rightly call it runnin',' he says. 'It ain't been settled +yet. Some claims she dun't, some claims she do. Them that claims she +dun't is those who've rid on her.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, whatever she does,' I says, 'will she get here this mawnin'? I +got to get to the race track.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll call up Orphy an' see,' says the old gazink. 'Hello, Tessie,' +he says, after he grinds away at the telephone handle fur a while. +'Git a-holt of Orphy Shanner fer me out to th' park—that's a good +girl.' In about ten minutes somebody begins to talk over the phone. +'Say, Orphy, this is Ed at the B. & O. Freight,' says the old gazink. +'I got a passenger down here fer ye.' Then he listens at the phone. +'I don't know who he is. He's a stranger tu me,' he says, 'n' listens +some more. 'All right, I'll tell him,' he says, 'n' hangs up the phone. +</P> + +<P> +"'Orphy says fer me to tell ye thet he's comin' in to get Mrs. Boone at +the Public Square at eleven o'clock,' he says to me. 'He's goin' to +take her out High Street to a whisk party at Mrs. Pucker's, an' he'll +come down here an' git ye then.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why, it ain't ten o'clock yet,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, you kin set in here out of the rain an' wait,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"I thinks we better walk 'n' then I remembers that cussed trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"'Much obliged,' I says. 'I'll go out 'n' get my friend.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Be they two of ye?' says he. 'Jeerusalem, I told Orphy they wa'n't +but one.' +</P> + +<P> +"When I gets back with Peewee, the old gazink pushes a couple of chairs +at us. +</P> + +<P> +"'Set right down, boys,' he says, ''n' make yourselves mis'able.' Then +he puts a chew in his face that would choke a he-elephant 'n' begins to +ask us questions. The only thing he don't ask us he don't think of. +He'll stop right in the middle of a word 'n' say, 'pit-too-ee,' 'n' hit +a flat box full of sawdust dead center. I don't see him miss once.' +</P> + +<P> +"After he's got us pumped dry he begins to tell us what <I>he</I> knows, 'n' +believe me he's got a directory beat to a custard. He hands us some +info about everybody who's alive in Mount Clinton 'n' then starts in on +the cemetery. He works back till he's talkin' about some 'dead an' +gone these twenty year,' as he says. +</P> + +<P> +"I happens to look at Peewee—Peewee's in a trance. He can't look +away. He's noddin' his head 'n' his eyes has got a glassy stare. I +goes outside quick 'n' lays up against the side of the buildin'. +</P> + +<P> +"When I get back the old gazink is still workin' on Peewee, but all of +a sudden he stops 'n' listens. +</P> + +<P> +"'Pit-too-ee—there's your car, boys!' he says, 'n' then I begins to +hear a groanin' sound. +</P> + +<P> +"Man! they ain't no way to tell you about that street-car! She falls +to pieces only they wraps all the upper parts together with wire till +she looks like a birdcage. A big freckled guy with red hair is runnin' +her 'n' I know just by lookin' at him it's Orphy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Howdy, boys,' he says to us when he gets to where we're standin'. +'Jump aboard! I'm goin' down far as the pumpin' station an' the brakes +ain't workin' just like they'd ought-a this mornin'.' +</P> + +<P> +"'We've got a trunk,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Oh!' he says, 'n' spins the whirligig. She keeps right on goin'. +Then he runs back 'n' yanks the trolley off, 'n' she begins to slow +down. 'Git your trunk an' fetch it to where I stop at!' he hollers. +'The cut-off ain't workin' just like it ought-a this mornin'.' +</P> + +<P> +"We lugs the trunk down to the car 'n' puts her on the back platform. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's the way things goes!' says Orphy. 'I hadn't figgered on no +trunk. Ed never tells me nothin' about it. You better set on it,' he +says. 'The seats ain't just in first-class shape this mornin'.' I +looks inside at the seats, 'n' he's got it doped right—some chickens +has spent the night on 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"After we gets to goin' Orphy pokes his head in the door. +</P> + +<P> +"'The company don't allow me to handle the money,' he says. 'But my +friends most gen'ally drop the fare down the right-hand side of the +slot.' +</P> + +<P> +"Me 'n' Peewee goes forward 'n' looks at the money box. The front of +the car has warped till there's a big crack in the right-hand side of +the box you can see the platform through. I drops two nickels in on +that side, 'n' bing! they go down the shoot 'n' out the crack. They +falls on the platform 'n' Orphy picks 'em up 'n' goes south with 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's what I call a live guy!' says Peewee. 'I'm proud to know him.' +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty soon Orphy comes back 'n' jerks the trolley off 'n' we stop on +a big square with a monument in the middle. +</P> + +<P> +"'We got to wait here at the Public Square fer Mrs. Boone,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"In about twenty minutes here comes a dame across the Square. She's +sixteen hands high 'n' will girt according. She belongs in the +heavy-draft class 'n' she's puffin' some. +</P> + +<P> +"'How-dee-do, Orphy,' she says. 'I'm a mite late, but I didn't get +shet of my peach butter as quick as I aimed to.' +</P> + +<P> +"'That's all right, Missus Boone,' says Orphy. 'The company allows me +a liberal schedool. Set right down on the trunk, Missus Boone. I +wouldn't resk the seats this mornin' if I was you.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What's wrong with 'em?' says Mrs. Boone, 'n' pokes her head in the +door. 'Land a Liberty!' she says. 'I shall certainly write to the +<I>Banner</I> about this! I call it disgraceful!' Then she sets down on +the trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm standin' up, but Peewee's still on it. She covers the whole +trunk, but a little corner, 'n' Peewee tries to set on that. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why don't you give the lady some room?' I says to Peewee, 'n' he gets +up 'n' leaves her have the trunk. +</P> + +<P> +"'You're a real polite young man,' says Mrs. Boone to me. +</P> + +<P> +"We ain't more'n got started when the dame lets out a holler. +</P> + +<P> +"'Orphy!' she yells, 'Stop! Wait a minute! Whoa!' Orphy comes 'n' +yanks off the trolley. +</P> + +<P> +"'I declare to goodness!' says Mrs. Boone. 'I've furgot my rubbers. +Run up and get them for me, Orphy—they're behind the door in the front +hall.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd like to oblige you real well, Mrs. Boone,' says Orphy, 'but the +company don't allow me to leave the car when I'm on duty—' +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, I call lookin' after your customers bein' on duty,' says Mrs. +Boone. 'Now, you skip an' get my rubbers, Orphy Shanner!' +</P> + +<P> +"Orphy beats it fur the rubbers. +</P> + +<P> +"While he's gone Mrs. Boone goes 'n' drops a nickel down the chute, but +she don't put it in the right side 'n' it trickles down into the box. +When Orphy gets the car started after he's back, he turns 'round 'n' +gives a sad look at the nickel in the box. +</P> + +<P> +"'Stung!' says Peewee, 'n' I think he's goin' to fall off the car. +</P> + +<P> +"'What ails that young man?' says Mrs. Boone to me. 'He seems to be +havin' a spell.' +</P> + +<P> +"'It ain't nothin',' I says. 'He'll be all right in a minute.' +</P> + +<P> +"We lets Mrs. Boone off after while 'n' keeps on goin' fur a mile or so +till we come to some gates. In gold letters over the gates is 'Ohio's +Beauty Spot,' 'n' below that in bigger letters yet is 'Lake Minnehaha +Park.' We goes through these gates 'n' there's the track. More'n half +the center-field is took up by a baseball diamond. In the other half +is a pond with a shoot-the-chutes runnin' down into it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Where's the lake?' Peewee says to Orphy. +</P> + +<P> +"'Right in front of your nose,' says Orphy, pointin' at the pond. +</P> + +<P> +"'She's some body of water,' says Peewee. 'If you ain't careful a big +rough guy'll come along here with a tin cup some dark night 'n' go +south with her.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I guess not,' says Orphy. 'She's four feet deep—in spots.' +</P> + +<P> +"When we come in sight of the stalls, there's Butsy standin' in the +rain with the hosses. A big bunch of Jaspers is holdin' a meetin' out +in front of a row of bran'-new stalls that's just been put up. There's +a hot argument goin' on 'n' they don't pay no attention to the rain. +</P> + +<P> +"'You gone dippy?' I says to Butsy. 'What are you standin' out in the +rain with the dogs fur? Why don't you put 'em up?' +</P> + +<P> +"'No chance,' says Butsy. 'All the stalls is took except these new +ones, 'n' the guy who furnished the lumber fur 'em won't unlock 'em +till he's paid.' +</P> + +<P> +"I looks at the stalls—there's a great big padlock on each door. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why don't they slip him the coin?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'You can search me,' says Butsy. 'That's what they're chewin' the rag +about now.' +</P> + +<P> +"Me 'n' Peewee slides over to where the crowd is. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll have the law on ye sure!' a old Jasper is sayin'. He's got on a +long-tailed coat 'n' a white string tie. +</P> + +<P> +"'Edge right in!' whispers Peewee to me. 'It ain't goin' to cost you a +cent!' +</P> + +<P> +"'You ain't got no right to lock them stalls, Jim Burns!' says the old +Jasper. 'They belong to the Knox County Agricultural Society!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Not till I'm paid fer the lumber, they don't!' says the guy he calls +Jim Burns. 'Gimme eighty-six dollars, Kurnel, if you want to use them +stalls.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll have the law on ye sure as my name's Hunter!' says the old +Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"'I guess you won't,' says Burns. 'My lawyer tells me to lock them +stalls.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Who's your lawyer?' says the old Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"Harry Evans," says Burns. +</P> + +<P> +"'Well, why ain't he here?' says the old Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's right—he'd ought to be here!' says several in the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"'I told him to come two hours ago,' says Burns. 'Say, Orphy! +Telephone in an' find out why Harry ain't here!' +</P> + +<P> +"Orphy climbs off the car 'n' goes in a shed 'n' we hears the telephone +bell jingle. Pretty soon he comes back. +</P> + +<P> +"'Missus Evans says Harry's fixin' a clock,' says Orphy. 'He's purty +nigh through, an' he aims to git out here soon as she'll strike right. +He's comin' in his autymobile.' +</P> + +<P> +"The crowd gives a groan. Burns throws up his hands. +</P> + +<P> +"'He'd a damn sight better walk,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"The argument sort-a dies down while they're waitin' fur this Harry +Evans. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come on!' Peewee says to me. 'I got to tell Butsy the good news.' +</P> + +<P> +"I see the rain tricklin' off Butsy's nose when we get close to him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Stay with it, Butsy!' says Peewee. 'They got a lawyer comin' in a +auto—' +</P> + +<P> +"'Come 'n' hold these dogs fur a while!' says Butsy. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'd like to,' says Peewee, 'but I can't. I might miss somethin',' +'n' he goes back to where the crowd is. +</P> + +<P> +"We waits fur about a hour. +</P> + +<P> +"'Why don't ye git a lawyer that ain't got no autymobile?' says +somebody to Burns. +</P> + +<P> +"'They've all got 'em,' says Burns. 'I'll give ye a dollar fer every +lawyer in Mount Clinton ye can name who ain't got one of the blame +things!' +</P> + +<P> +"'How about Sam Koons?' says somebody. +</P> + +<P> +"'Got one just the other day,' says Burns. 'It's made up to Bucyrus. +It's called the Speeding Queen. He give three hundred and twenty +dollars cash fer it.' +</P> + +<P> +"Not long after that I begins to notice a noise. It ain't like any +other sound I ever hears before. It gets right into my system. It's +gettin' closer 'n' pretty soon I think I'll go find a nail 'n' bite on +it. +</P> + +<P> +"'What's that?' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's him,' says Burns. 'It's Harry. If he don't have no bad luck +he'll be here in twenty minutes. He ain't over a half a mile away +right now.' +</P> + +<P> +"'I hope they ain't no children on the road,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"I figgers this Harry Evans is sure ridin' a threshin'-machine with its +insides loose, but when he comes through the gates I gets a shock. +Say,—his machine ain't much bigger'n a good-sized sardine can! It's +painted red 'n' smoke's comin' out of the front of it. I can roll +faster'n it's movin', but it keeps a-shakin' so he can't hardly set in +the seat. +</P> + +<P> +"When it's pretty close I see he's a little guy with specs 'n' a yellow +coat on, but he's bein' shook so I can't hardly see what he does look +like. +</P> + +<P> +"'How-dee-do!' he says, when he gets her stopped. 'Er,—it occurs to +me that I may be a little late.… Will any of you gentlemen +indulge in a Cuban Beauty?' He fishes some long black stogies out of +his pocket, but they don't nobody go against 'em, except him—he lights +one. +</P> + +<P> +"Then the crowd shows him the locked stalls 'n' everybody takes a shot +at tellin' him what ought to be did. +</P> + +<P> +"'Er,—it occurs to me,' says this Harry Evans, 'that there is a simple +way out of the—er—difficulty.' +</P> + +<P> +"'There's class to him,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'How's that?' says some one in the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"'If Colonel Hunter here will tender me—er—eighty-six dollars in +behalf of my client,' says Harry Evans, 'I'll instruct my client to +unlock the stalls.' +</P> + +<P> +"'There you are!' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"The big Jasper lets out a fierce roar. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not by a damn sight!' says he. 'We leased these grounds with the +full use an' privilege of all buildin's an' other fixtures an' +appurtenances fur the purpose of holdin' a fair. We weren't aimin' to +get skinned out of eighty-six dollars by no lumber concern, 'n' we +ain't a-goin' to neither!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Let's see your lease?' says Harry Evans. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's back in town at my office,' says the old Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"'Who signed it?' says Harry Evans. +</P> + +<P> +"'Judge Tate signed it,' says the old Jasper. +</P> + +<P> +"'Er,—if that's the case,' says Harry Evans, 'get him out here. He's +receiver for the Park Company and you can make him pay this claim.' +</P> + +<P> +"The whole bunch says that's a good idea. So they tell Orphy to go in +'n' get this Judge Tate. +</P> + +<P> +"'I got to go 'n' tell Butsy there's a judge comin'!' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"'Butsy's sore about somethin',' he says when he gets back. +</P> + +<P> +"This Judge Tate unloads hisself from the car when Orphy brings him, +like he's the most important piece of work fur miles around. He has +little side-whiskers 'n' a bay-window with a big gold chain stretched +across it. He holds a umbrella over hisself with one hand 'n' wiggles +the watch-chain with the other. +</P> + +<P> +"'Ahem—gentlemen, what can I do for you?' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Something doing now!' says Peewee to me. 'This is God-a'mighty's +right-hand man!' +</P> + +<P> +"'Er—Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'we are having a dispute concerning +certain buildings on these premises, and—er—it occurred to me you +could settle the matter.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Settle is the word,' says Peewee to me. +</P> + +<P> +"'As receiver for the Park Company, Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'can you +tell us—er—who the buildings on these premises belong to?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Why—ahem—' says the judge, 'it is my understanding that all the +buildings of every sort and description belong to the Park Company, +irrespective of any improvements that the—ahem—lessees may see fit to +make.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Now yer talkin',' says Burns. 'Just hand me eighty-six dollars due +fer lumber on them new stalls—you claim to own em. +</P> + +<P> +"'A-he-m!' says the judge. 'That's a different matter. The +Agricultural Society is responsible for those stalls. The man you +should see about your claim is Alf Dingle. I happen to know there is a +certain sum of money in the treasury and I kind of think Alf will pay +this claim. Why don't you try to get him to come out here?' +</P> + +<P> +"They argue a while 'n' then it's thought best to send fur Alf Dingle. +But Orphy has took the street-car 'n' went. +</P> + +<P> +"'That's the way it goes,' says the old Jasper they call colonel. +'He's a-chasin' around town with that car instead of stayin' here +tendin' to his business!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll go in and get Alf,' says Harry Evans, startin' fur his machine. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody says nothin'. +</P> + +<P> +"'I ain't got the heart to tell Butsy,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"Harry Evans begins to turn the handle on his machine. He turns it fur +ten minutes. When he's all in, he straightens up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Somebody'll have to help me crank her,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"The crowd goes to work. They all take turns. But she don't start. +</P> + +<P> +"'Er—it occurs to me there may be something wrong with her,' says +Harry Evans, 'n' starts to lift off the cover where the machinery is. +Peewee gives me a poke in the ribs. +</P> + +<P> +"'I expect he's right,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'm gettin' all-fired tired of this putterin' around,' says the old +Jasper. 'Tom', he says to a guy in overalls, 'get a crowbar an' knock +them padlocks off.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If you do that I'll put ye in jail!' yells Burns. 'That's a criminal +act! It's destruction of property with burglarious intent! Ain't it, +Harry?' +</P> + +<P> +"Harry comes up out of the machinery. There's grease even on his specs. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's the carbureter,' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll leave it to the judge!' hollers Burns. 'Ain't that a criminal +act?' +</P> + +<P> +"'A—hem!' says the judge, 'I am not prepared to say you have the right +to those stalls, but I wouldn't advise breaking a lock. As you say, +it's a criminal act.' +</P> + +<P> +"Just then here comes Orphy rollin' through the gates. +</P> + +<P> +"'You hustle in an' git Alf Dingle!' says the old Jasper to him. 'An' +when you git back, you stay here where you're needed!' +</P> + +<P> +"The crowd has moved 'round back of the stalls to watch Harry Evans +work on his machine. I stands with 'em fur a while, but Peewee has +left. All of a sudden I see him poke his head 'round the end of the +new stalls 'n' give me the high sign. +</P> + +<P> +"'What you standin' out in the rain fur?' he says, when I gets near him. +</P> + +<P> +"'What else can I do?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'Come on 'n' I'll show you,' says Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"He leads me round in front of the stalls. In two of 'em is the hosses +all bedded down nice. Butsy is settin' in the stall with his stud. He +makes a puddle wherever he sets. +</P> + +<P> +"'How did you get 'em open?' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'They ain't locked,' says Peewee. 'None of 'em are. The padlocks is +closed, <I>but not locked</I>.' +</P> + +<P> +"<I>No</I>,' I says. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's the truth!' says Peewee, 'n' we rolls in the straw a-holdin' to +each other till I feel like I'd been stepped on by a draft hoss. +</P> + +<P> +"Butsy gets up. +</P> + +<P> +"'Just one more snicker out of either of you,' he says, ''n' I lead my +hoss to the depot!' +</P> + +<P> +"I see he means it 'n' I gets my head down in the straw 'n' holds my +breath. Butsy stands there a-lookin' at us. +</P> + +<P> +"'Has Alf come yet?' says Peewee, but he don't look at me. +</P> + +<P> +"'Not yet, but he's expected,' I says, 'n' Peewee sticks his head down +in the straw 'n' makes a noise like Harry Evans' machine. I does the +same. +</P> + +<P> +"As soon as I can see again, there's Butsy leadin' his hoss fur the +gate. +</P> + +<P> +"'Now you've done it,' I says to Peewee. +</P> + +<P> +"Peewee sets up 'n' takes a look. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hi, Butsy!' he yells, 'come on back here! We weren't laughin' at +you!' +</P> + +<P> +"But Butsy keeps right on a-goin'." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BIG TRAIN +</H3> + + +<P> +The moon had acted as a stimulant to my thoughts, and the contented +munching sound as the "string" of horses consumed their hay was not +sedative enough to calm my utter wide-awake-ness. +</P> + +<P> +"Why have you put bars across the door of that stall?" I asked Blister +Jones, trying to rouse him from his placid mood. He pulled a straw +from the bale upon which we sat, before replying. +</P> + +<P> +"The Big Train's in there," he said quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"No; is that a fact?" I cried, as I jumped to my feet and walked to the +door across which were the heavy wooden bars that had attracted my +attention. Peering through these I could see nothing, nor was there +any sound toward which I might have strained my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess he's not at home," I said. "I can't see him." +</P> + +<P> +"Stick around that door 'n' you'll see him all right!" Blister assured +me. Scarcely had he finished when the straw rustled and a huge head +shot forward into the planes of moonlight that slanted between the bars +into the black mystery of the stall. +</P> + +<P> +Never had I seen anything so malevolent as this head. Its eyes were +green flame, holding the hate of hell in their depths. The mouth was +open, and the great white teeth closed with a snap on one of the bars +and shook it in its socket. +</P> + +<P> +So this was the noted man-killer, nicknamed because of his size and his +astonishing ability to carry weight—The Big Train! His fame had been +borne by leaded column beyond the racing, and to the more general +public; for on several occasions he had succeeded in furnishing the +yellow newspapers with gory copy. +</P> + +<P> +He had begun his career as a man-killer in his three-year-old form. An +unscrupulous owner had directed the jockey to carry an electric battery +during an important race. Under the current The Big Train had run like +a wild thing, and despite a staggering load placed on him by the +handicapper, had won by many lengths. +</P> + +<P> +After the race the stallion had reached back, and getting the jockey's +leg between his teeth, had torn him from the saddle. Then before a +screaming, horror-stricken grand-stand he had stamped the boy into a +red waste. +</P> + +<P> +This was his first and last public atrocity. He had killed men since, +but always when they were alone with him. No one had seen him at his +murders. He would have been destroyed when his racing days were over, +but he possessed the ability to transmit a large measure of his stamina +and speed to his offspring, and was greatly in demand as a sire. +</P> + +<P> +I stood before The Big Train's stall, fascinated by his wicked attempts +to get at me until Blister's attention was attracted by the thud of the +stallion's hoofs against the lower door. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on back here 'n' set down 'n' let that hoss get his rest,' he +ordered. I obeyed. +</P> + +<P> +"Why on earth did you take him?" I asked, when once more seated on the +bale of straw. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ole Prindle says he'd give fifty bucks a week to the guy who'll +handle him 'n' I needs the money … fur certain reasons." +</P> + +<P> +"Fur certain reasons" was added diffidently, I thought. This was an +altogether new quality in Blister. And I remembered the pretty, +spoiled-looking, young girl I had seen with him quite often of late. +She was rosy, pouty, slim, enticing and thoroughly aware of how +desirable she appeared. Blister had told me she was his landlady's +daughter, and I knew she lived but a block from the race track. I +thought of the head I had seen, and felt certain that fifty <I>thousand</I> +a week would not tempt me into an intimate relationship with its owner. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't tell you how sorry I am you've taken him—it's a fearful +risk," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Get out!" said Blister. "He won't even muss my hair. I never go in +to him alone 'n' he don't like company fur his little stunts. He's a +regular family hoss in a crowd." +</P> + +<P> +Two stable-boys now climbed the track fence and came toward us rather +hastily. +</P> + +<P> +"Been on a vacation?" was Blister's greeting to them. +</P> + +<P> +"Playin' seven-up 'n' tried to finish the game," one of them explained +as they started with buckets for the pump. +</P> + +<P> +"That's good. It don't matter whether these hosses get watered, just +so you swipes enjoy yourselves," Blister commented. +</P> + +<P> +I watched languidly while the buckets were filled and brought to the +horses, until this process reached the barred stall. Then I became +interested. One of the boys approached the stall with a bucket in one +hand and a pitchfork held near the pronged end in the other. He swung +open the lower door and whacked the fork handle back and forth inside, +yelling harsh commands in the meantime. He succeeded in getting the +bucket where the horse could drink, but the pitchfork was seized and +twisted and the boy had difficulty in wrenching it away. It was all he +could do to regain possession of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Little pink toes is feelin' like his ole sweet self again," said +Blister. "I been worried about him—he's seemed so pie-faced here +lately." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't worry none about him," said the boy who had watered The Big +Train. "Mama's lamb ain't forgot his cute ways." Then he addressed +the other boy. "Say, Chic, you snored somethin' fierce last night! +Why don't you sleep in here with Bright Eyes, so's not to disturb me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would, only I might thrash around in my sleep 'n' hurt him," promptly +replied the other boy. +</P> + +<P> +Two figures had come from the street, through the gate and strolled +down the line of stalls. One of them was feminine, and in white, and +as they drew nearer, "Good evening, Mister Jones," floated to us in an +assured though girlish voice. +</P> + +<P> +It was the landlady's daughter, attended by a cavalier in the person of +a stolid young man of German extraction, as I thought at first glance, +and this was confirmed by Blister's, "Let me make you acquainted with +Miss Malloy," and "Shake hands with Mister Shultz." +</P> + +<P> +Then began the by no means unskilful playing of one lover against the +other. She sat, a queen—the bale of straw a throne—and dispensed +royal favors impartially; a dimple melting to a smile, a frown changed +by feminine magic into a delicious pout. +</P> + +<P> +In the moonlight she was exceedingly lovely. She seemed +unapproachable, elusive, mysterious, and yet her art touched the +material. She contrived to bring out how successful Mister Shultz was +in the bakery business, and in the next breath told nonchalantly of the +vast sums acquired by a race-horse trainer. +</P> + +<P> +She appealed to Blister to corroborate this. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't that so, Mister Jones? Didn't you tell me you get fifty dollars +a week for training one horse?" +</P> + +<P> +Blister was not above impressing his rival, it seemed. He nodded to +this deceptive question. And since he had nine horses in his "string," +the worthy German's eyes bulged. +</P> + +<P> +At last I rose to go and our little circle broke up. The girl, with a +coquettish good night to me, moved away from us and stood with her back +to the stalls, her face lifted to the moon. +</P> + +<P> +"Good night, ole Four Eyes!" said Blister, and gave my hand a friendly +pressure, just as a rattling sound attracted my eyes to the barred +stall. +</P> + +<P> +The lower door was swinging open. A powerful neck had tossed the bars +from their sockets. This was the rattle I had heard, as Death came out +of that stall, huge and terrible, to rear above the unconscious white +figure in the moonlight. +</P> + +<P> +My look of horror swung Blister about. I saw him dive headlong, and +the white figure was knocked to safety as the man-killer's forefeet +struck Blister down. +</P> + +<P> +The rest was a dream … I found myself beating with futile fists the +giant body that rose and fell as it stamped upon that other body +beneath. I knew, but dimly, that the night was pierced by shriek on +shriek. And still I felt the rise and fall of the beast. How long it +lasted I do not know. … . . +</P> + +<P> +A helmeted figure swept me aside, I saw a gleam in the moonlight—a +flash, and felt that a shot was fired, although I can not remember +hearing it. The Big Train ceased to rise and fall. He swayed, +staggered and crumpled to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"An ambulance—quick!" I said to the heaven-sent policeman; and saw him +start for the gate on a lumbering trot. Then I stooped to the figure, +lying with its head in what the moonlight had changed to a pool of ink. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly I felt a woman's soft form beneath my hands. It was in white +and it covered that other dreadful figure with its own … and moaned. +</P> + +<P> +"This won't do," I said to the girl. "Let me see how badly he's hurt." +</P> + +<P> +She took Blister's head in her arms. +</P> + +<P> +"Go 'way from here! He's dead," she said. "He saved me … he's +mine! Go 'way from here!" +</P> + +<P> +A crowd was forming. I sent a stableboy for a blanket, put it under +Blister's head, despite the girl's protests, and pulled her roughly to +her feet. +</P> + +<P> +"Go over to that bale and sit down!" I ordered, giving her a shake; and +to my surprise she obeyed. "Sit with her!" I said to the German, and I +heard her repeat, "Go 'way from here!" as he approached.… +</P> + +<P> +The ambulance clanged through the gate. The young surgeon put his ear +to Blister's heart, picked the limp body up unaided and placed it in +the somber-looking vehicle. +</P> + +<P> +"Beat it, Max!" he said to the driver. +</P> + +<P> +"What hospital?" I called after him. +</P> + +<P> +"Saint Luke's!" he shouted, as they gathered speed. +</P> + +<P> +"You had better take her home now," I suggested to Mr. Shultz. "I am +going to the hospital." +</P> + +<P> +"So am I," said the girl. "Tell mother," she directed at the German, +as she started for the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better not go," I remonstrated. "I'll let you know everything +as soon as I hear." +</P> + +<P> +She paid not the slightest attention. When we reached the street she +stopped on the wrong corner waiting for a car that would have taken her +away from, instead of toward, the hospital. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't go down-town like this!" I said, making a last effort. +"Look at your dress!" and I pointed to the front of her gown—a bright +crimson under the electric light. +</P> + +<P> +She looked down at herself and shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go if it's the last thing I do," she said. "You can save your +breath." +</P> + +<P> +The car was all but empty. The girl sat staring, dry-eyed, straight +before her. A dirty old woman, seeing the set face and blood-stained +dress, leaned eagerly across the aisle. +</P> + +<P> +"Has the young lady been hurt?" she wheezed. +</P> + +<P> +"None of your business," said Miss Malloy. And the old woman subsided +at this shaft of plain truth. +</P> + +<P> +Our ride was half completed when my companion began to speak, in a +broken monotone. She addressed no one in particular. If was as though +conscience spoke through unconscious lips. +</P> + +<P> +"And I've been foolin' with him just like all the rest—I thought it +was smart! I never knew, for sure, till back there, and now <I>he'll</I> +never know … he'll not hear me when I tell it to him." Suddenly +the monotone grew shrill. "<I>He'll never hear nothing of what Eve found +out</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"Quiet! Quiet!" I said, and took her hand. "He's only hurt. The +doctors will bring him around all right." +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said. "I've been foolin' with him. I've been wicked and +mean, and it's been sent to punish me." +</P> + +<P> +A house surgeon and the engulfing odor of iodoform met us at the door +of the emergency ward, whither we were led by a nurse. +</P> + +<P> +"We can't tell anything before tomorrow," answered the surgeon to my +question. "The pulse is fairly strong, and that means hope." +</P> + +<P> +"I must see him," the girl stated. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry," said the surgeon, shaking his head. "No visitors allowed in +this ward at night." +</P> + +<P> +Two eyes, big and dark and beseeching, were raised to his. They shone +from the white face and plead with him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, doctor … <I>please</I>!" was all she said, but the eyes won her +battle. +</P> + +<P> +The nurse joined forces with the eyes. She looked past the surgeon. +</P> + +<P> +"Very few in here to-night, Doctor Brandt," she urged. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder what would become of hospital rules if we left it to you +nurses!" he protested, as he stepped aside and gently drew the girl +within. +</P> + +<P> +Down the dim aisle between the snowy beds we went, until the surgeon +stopped at one, beside which sat a nurse, her fingers on the wrist of +the bandaged occupant. +</P> + +<P> +One bloodless hand picked feebly at the covering. The girl took this +in both her own and pressed it to her cheek. Then stooping even lower, +she cooed to the head on the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +"The Big Train's pulled in …" muttered a far voice from between the +bandages. +</P> + +<P> +"Railroad man—isn't he?" inquired the surgeon of me. +</P> + +<P> +"No. A horseman," I replied. +</P> + +<P> +"He talks about trains. Was it a railroad accident?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was injured by a horse called The Big Train," I explained. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—that one," he said, enlightened. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't they shoot him?" +</P> + +<P> +"They did," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" exclaimed the surgeon. "That is fine!" +</P> + +<P> +After taking the girl to her home, I sent telegrams to "Mr. Van," as I +had heard Blister call him—one to Morrisville, New Jersey, and one to +the Union Club, New York. Judge and Mrs. Dillon were abroad. +</P> + +<P> +When I had telephoned to the hospital the next morning, I went to the +office and found a message on my desk. It read: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Have everything possible done. Send all bills to me. He must come +here to convalesce." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was headed Morrisville, and was signed, "W. D. Van Voast." +</P> + +<P> +That same day Blister was taken to a big, airy, private room with two +nurses in attendance. +</P> + +<P> +For a time it seemed hopeless. And then the fates decided to spare +that valiant whimsical spirit and Death drew slowly back. The stallion +had been unshod, and to this and the semi-darkness Blister owed his +life. +</P> + +<P> +I had met the girl frequently at the hospital and at last they told us +we could see Blister for a moment the next day. Ten o'clock was the +time set and as we sat in the visitor's room together, waiting, she +seemed worried. +</P> + +<P> +"You should be more cheerful," I said. "The danger is past, or we +would not be allowed to see him." +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't that," she replied. "I used to like horses. Now every horse +I see scares me to death." Then she hesitated and looked at me timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I encouraged, "that's natural, what of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've been thinking—" she said slowly, "every girl should like what +her husb—" she stopped and blushed till she looked like a rose in +confusion. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I see what you mean," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Since you +care for Blister, you feel that you should also be interested in his +profession." +</P> + +<P> +"That's it! You say things just right!" she exclaimed gratefully. +</P> + +<P> +"You will get over this dread of horses," I assured her. "Because +there are murderers in the world you do not fear all men. Occasionally +there are bad horses, just as there are bad people. You shouldn't +judge all the splendid faithful creatures who spend their lives serving +us, by one vicious brute." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I know that!" she said. "And I'll try as hard as ever I can to +get over it." +</P> + +<P> +"This is quite a little woman … she has developed," I thought. +</P> + +<P> +An unknown Blister with strange cavernous eyes, lay in the room to +which we were presently taken. I stood at the foot of the bed, +directly in his line of vision, but he did not seem to recognize me. +He looked through and beyond me. At last— +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Four Eyes!" came feebly from him. Slowly he became conscious +of the girl's face, looking down into his own. "You here, too?" he +questioned. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear," she said tremblingly. +</P> + +<P> +The sight of the poor sick face was too much for her and she knelt +hastily to hide the tears. Then the round curve of her young bosom was +indented by his wasted shoulder as she bent and kissed him on the mouth. +</P> + +<P> +A woeful scar across his cheek reddened against the white skin. A +flash of the old Blister appeared in the hollow eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"There's class to that!" he said. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE END +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + +***** This file should be named 19041-h.htm or 19041-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/4/19041/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blister Jones + +Author: John Taintor Foote + +Illustrator: Jay Hambridge + +Release Date: August 14, 2006 [EBook #19041] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against +Hamilton."] + + + + + + +BLISTER JONES + + +By + +JOHN TAINTOR FOOTE + + + + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +JAY HAMBIDGE + + + + +INDIANAPOLIS + +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +COPYRIGHT 1913 + +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +I dedicate this, my first book, with awe and the deepest affection, to +Mulvaney--Mowgil--Kim, and all the wonderful rest of them. + +J. T. F. + + + + +A certain magazine, that shall be nameless, I read every month. Not +because its pale contents, largely furnished by worthy ladies, contain +many red corpuscles, but because as a child I saw its numbers lying +upon the table in the "library," as much a part of that table as the +big vase lamp that glowed above it. + +My father and mother read the magazine with much enjoyment, for, +doubtless, when its editor was young, the precious prose and poetry of +Araminta Perkins and her ilk satisfied him not at all. + +Therefore, in memory of days that will never come again, I read this +old favorite; sometimes--I must confess it--with pain. + +It chanced that a story about horses--aye, race horses--was approved +and sanctified by the august editor. + +This story, when I found it sandwiched between _Jane Somebody's +Impressions Upon Seeing an Italian Hedge_, and three verses entitled +_Resurgam_, or something like that, I straightway bore to "Blister" +Jones, horse-trainer by profession and gentleman by instinct. + +"What that guy don't know about a hoss would fill a book," was his +comment after I had read him the story. + +I rather agreed with this opinion and so--here is the book. + + + + + THE THOROUGHBRED + + Lead him away!--his day is done, + His satin coat and velvet eye + Are dimmed as moonlight in the sun + Is lost upon the sky. + + Lead him away!--his rival stands + A calf of shiny gold; + His masters kneel with lifted hands + To this base thing and bold. + + Lead him away!--far down the past, + Where sentiment has fled; + But, gentlemen, just at the last, + Drink deep!--_the thoroughbred_! + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I Blister + II Two Ringers + III Wanted--a Rainbow + IV Salvation + V A Tip in Time + VI Tres Jolie + VII Ole Man Sanford + VIII Class + IX Exit Butsy + X The Big Train + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against + Hamilton" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ + +"Tres Jolie!" he shrieked. + +"I see the Elefant stamp him." + + + + +BLISTER JONES + + +BLISTER + +How my old-young friend "Blister" Jones acquired his remarkable +nickname, I learned one cloudless morning late in June. + +Our chairs were tipped against number 84 in the curving line of +box-stalls at Latonia. Down the sweep of whitewashed stalls the upper +doors were yawning wide, and from many of these openings, velvet black +in the sunlight, sleek snaky heads protruded. + +My head rested in the center of the lower door of 84. From time to +time a warm moist breath, accompanied by a gigantic sigh, would play +against the back of my neck; or my hat would be pushed a bit farther +over my eyes by a wrinkling muzzle--for Tambourine, gazing out into the +green of the center-field, felt a vague longing and wished to tell me +about it. + +The track, a broad tawny ribbon with a lace-work edging of white fence, +was before us; the "upper-turn" with its striped five-eighths pole, not +fifty feet away. Some men came and set up the starting device at this +red and white pole, and I asked Blister to explain to me just what it +meant. + +"Goin' to school two-year-olds at the barrier," he explained. And +presently--mincing, sidling, making futile leaps to get away, the boys +on their backs standing clear above them in the short stirrups--a band +of deer-like young thoroughbreds assembled, thirty feet or so from the +barrier. + +Then there was trouble. Those sweet young things performed, with the +rapidity of thought, every lawless act known to the equine brain. They +reared. They plunged. They bucked. They spun. They surged together. +They scattered like startled quail. I heard squeals, and saw vicious +shiny hoofs lash out in every direction; and the dust spun a yellow +haze over it all. + +"Those jockeys will be killed!" I gasped. + +"Jockeys!" exclaimed Blister contemptuously. "Them ain't +jockeys--they're exercise-boys. Do you think a jock would school a +two-year-old?" + +A man, who Blister said was a trainer, stood on the fence and acted as +starter. Language came from this person in volcanic blasts, and the +seething mass, where infant education was brewing, boiled and boiled +again. + +"That bay filly's a nice-lookin' trick, Four Eyes!" said Blister, +pointing out a two-year-old standing somewhat apart from the rest. +"She's by Hamilton 'n' her dam's Alberta, by Seminole." + +The bay filly, I soon observed, had more than beauty--she was so +obviously the outcome of a splendid and selected ancestry. Even her +manners were aristocratic. She faced the barrier with quiet dignity +and took no part in the whirling riot except to move disdainfully aside +when it threatened to engulf her. I turned to Blister and found him +gazing at the filly with a far-away look in his eyes. + +"Ole Alberta was a grand mare," he said presently. "I see her get away +last in the Crescent City Derby 'n' be ten len'ths back at the quarter. +But she come from nowhere, collared ole Stonebrook in the stretch, +looked him in the eye the last eighth 'n' outgamed him at the wire. +She has a hundred 'n' thirty pounds up at that. + +"Ole Alberta dies when she has this filly," he went on after a pause. +"Judge Dillon, over near Lexington, owned her, 'n' Mrs. Dillon brings +the filly up on the bottle. See how nice that filly stands? Handled +every day since she was foaled, 'n' never had a cross word. Sugar +every mawnin' from Mrs. Dillon. That's way to learn a colt somethin'." + +At last the colts were formed into a disorderly line. + +"Now, boys, you've got a chance--come on with 'em!" bellowed the +starter. "Not too fast . . ." he cautioned. "Awl-r-r-right . . . let +'em go-o-!" + +They were off like rockets as the barrier shot up, and the bay filly +flashed into the lead. Her slender legs seemed to bear her as though +on the breast of the wind. She did not run--she floated--yet the gap +between herself and her struggling schoolmates grew ever wider. + +"Oh, you Alberta!" breathed Blister. Then his tone changed. "Most of +these wise Ikes talk about the sire of a colt, but I'll take a good dam +all the time for mine!" + +Standing on my chair, I watched the colts finish their run, the filly +well in front. + +"She's a wonder!" I exclaimed, resuming my seat. + +"She acts like she'll deliver the goods," Blister conceded. "She's got +a lot of step, but it takes more'n that to make a race hoss. We'll +know about _her_ when she goes the route, carryin' weight against +class." + +The colts were now being led to their quarters by stable-boys. When +the boy leading the winner passed, he threw us a triumphant smile. + +"I guess she's bad!" he opined. + +"Some baby," Blister admitted. Then with disgust: "They've hung a +fierce name on her though." + +"Ain't it the truth!" agreed the boy. + +"What _is_ her name?" I asked, when the pair had gone by. + +"They call her Trez Jolly," said Blister. "Now, ain't that a hell of a +name? I like a name you can kind-a warble." He had pronounced the +French phrase exactly as it is written, with an effort at the "J" +following the sibilant. + +"Tres Jolie--it's French," I explained, and gave him the meaning and +proper pronunciation. + +"Traysyolee!" he repeated after me. "Say, I'm a rube right. +Tra-aysyole-e in the stretch byano-o-se!" he intoned with gusto. "You +can warble that!" he exclaimed. + +"I don't think much of Blister--for beauty," I said. "Of course, that +isn't your real name." + +"No; I had another once," he replied evasively. "But I never hears it +much. The old woman calls me 'thatdambrat,' 'n' the old man the same, +only more so. I gets Blister handed to me by the bunch one winter at +the New Awlin' meetin'." + +"How?" I inquired. + +"Wait till I get the makin's 'n' I'll tell you," he said, as he got up +and entered a stall. + +"One winter I'm swipin' fur Jameson," he began, when he returned with +tobacco and papers. "We ships to New Awlins early that fall. We have +twelve dogs--half of 'em hop-heads 'n' the other half dinks. + +"In them days I ain't much bigger 'n a peanut, but I sure thinks I'm a +clever guy. I figger they ain't a gazabo on the track can hand it to +me. + +"One mawnin' there's a bunch of us ginnies settin' on the fence at the +wire, watchin' the work-outs. Some trainers 'n' owners is standin' on +the track rag-chewin'. + +"A bird owned by Cal Davis is finishin' a mile-'n'-a-quarter, under +wraps, in scan'lous fast time. Cal is standin' at the finish with his +clock in his hand lookin' real contented. All of a sudden the bird +makes a stagger, goes to his knees 'n' chucks the boy over his head. +His swipe runs out 'n' grabs the bird 'n' leads him in a-limpin'. + +"Say! That bird's right-front tendon is bowed like a barrel stave! + +"This Cal Davis is a big owner. He's got all kinds of kale--'n' he +don't fool with dinks. He gives one look at the bowed tendon. + +"'Anybody that'll lead this hoss off the track, gets him 'n' a month's +feed,' he says. + +"Before you could spit I has that bird by the head. His swipe ain't +goin' to let go of him, but Cal says: 'Turn him loose, boy!' 'N' I'm +on my way with the bird. + +"That's the first one I ever owns. Jameson loans me a stall fur him. +That night a ginnie comes over from Cal's barn with two bags of oats in +a wheelbarrow. + +"A newspaper guy finds out about the deal, 'n' writes it up so +everybody is hep to me playin' owner. One day I see the starter point +me out to Colonel King, who's the main squeeze in the judge's stand, +'n' they both laugh. + +"I've got all winter before we has to ship, 'n' believe me I sweat some +over this bird. I done everythin' to that tendon, except make a new +one. In a month I has it in such shape he don't limp, 'n' I begins to +stick mile gallops 'n' short breezers into him. He has to wear a stiff +bandage on the dinky leg, 'n' I puts one on the left-fore, too--it +looks better. + +"It ain't so long till I has this bird cherry ripe. He'll take a-holt +awful strong right at the end of a stiff mile. One day I turns him +loose, fur three-eighths, 'n' he runs it so fast he makes me dizzy. + +"I know he's good, but I wants to know _how_ good, before I pays +entrance on him. I don't want the clockers to get wise to him, neither! + +"Joe Nickel's the star jock that year. I've seen many a good boy on a +hoss, but I think Joe's the best judge of pace I ever see. One day +he's comin' from the weighin'-room, still in his silks. His valet's +with him carryin' the saddle. I steps up 'n' says: + +"'Kin I see you private a minute, Joe?' + +"'Sure thing, kid,' he says. 'N' the valet skidoos. + +"'Joe,' I says, 'I've got a bird that's right. I don't know just how +good he is, but he's awful good. I want to get wise to him before I +crowds my dough on to the 'Sociation. Will you give him a work?' + +"It takes an awful nerve to ask a jock like Nickel to work a hoss out, +but he's the only one can judge pace good enough to put me wise, 'n' +I'm desperate. + +"'It's that Davis cripple, ain't it?' he asks. + +"'That's him,' I says. + +"He studies a minute, lookin' steady at me. + +"'I'm your huckleberry,' he says at last. 'When do you want me?' + +"'Just as she gets light to-morrow mawnin',' I says quick, fur I hasn't +believed he'd come through, 'n' I wants to stick the gaff into him +'fore he changes his mind. + +"He give a sigh. I knowed he was no early riser. + +"'All right,' he says. 'Where'll you be?' + +"'At the half-mile post,' I says. 'I'll have him warmed up fur you.' + +"'All right,' he says again--'n' that night I don't sleep none. + +"When it begins to get a little gray next mawnin' I takes the bird out +'n' gallops him a slow mile with a stiff breezer at the end. But +durin' the night I gives up thinkin' Joe'll be there, 'n' I nearly +falls off when I comes past the half-mile post, 'n' he's standin' by +the fence in a classy overcoat 'n' kid gloves. + +"He takes off his overcoat, 'n' comes up when I gets down,'n' gives a +look at the saddle. + +"'I can't ride nothin' on that thing,' he says. 'Slip over to the +jocks' room 'n' get mine. It's on number three peg--here's the key.' + +"It's gettin' light fast 'n' I'm afraid of the clockers. + +"'The sharp-shooters'll be out in a minute,' I says. + +"'I can't help it,' says Joe. 'I wouldn't ride a bull on that saddle!' + +"I see there's no use to argue, so I beats it across the center-field, +cops the saddle 'n' comes back. I run all the way, but it's gettin' +awful light. + +"'Send him a mile in forty-five 'n' see what he's got left,' I says, as +I throws Joe up. + +"'Right in the notch--if he's got the step,' he says. + +"I click Jameson's clock on them, as they went away--Joe whisperin' in +the bird's ear. The back-stretch was the stretch, startin' from the +half. I seen the bird's mouth wide open as they come home, 'n' Joe has +double wraps on him. 'He won't beat fifty under that pull!' I says to +myself. But when I stops the clock at the finish it was at +forty-four-'n'-three-quarters. Joe ain't got a clock to go by +neither--that's judgin' pace!--take it from me! + +"'He's diseased with speed,' says Joe, when he gets down. 'He can do +thirty-eight sure--just look at my hands!' + +"I does a dance a-bowin' to the bird, 'n' Joe stands there laughin' at +me, squeezin' the blood back into his mitts. + +"We leads the hoss to the gate, 'n' there's a booky's clocker named +Izzy Goldberg. + +"'You an exercise-boy now?' he asks Joe. + +"'Not yet,' says Joe. 'Mu cousin here owns this trick, 'n' I'm givin' +him a work.' + +"'Up kind-a early, ain't you? Say! He's good, ain't he, Joe?' says +Izzy; 'n' looks at the bird close. + +"'Naw, he's a mutt,' says Joe. + +"'What's he doin' with his mouth open at the end of that mile?' Izzy +says, 'n' laughs. + +"'He only runs it in fifty,' says Joe, careless. 'I takes hold of him +'cause he's bad in front, 'n' he's likely to do a flop when he gets +tired. So long, Bud!' Joe says to me, 'n' I takes the bird to the barn. + +"I'm not thinkin' Izzy ain't wise. It's a cinch Joe don't stall him. +Every booky would hear about that work-out by noon. Sure enough the +_Item's_ pink sheet has this among the tips the next day: + +"'Count Noble'--that was the bird's name--'a mile in forty-four. +Pulled to a walk at the end. Bet the works on him; his first time out, +boys!' + +"That was on a Saturday. On Monday I enters the bird among a bunch of +dogs to start in a five furlong sprint Thursday. I'm savin' every +soomarkee I gets my hands on 'n' I pays the entrance to the secretary +like it's a mere bag of shells. Joe Nickel can't ride fur me--he's +under contract. I meets him the day before my race. + +"'You're levelin' with your hoss, ain't you?' he says. 'I'll send my +valet in with you, 'n' after you get yours on, he'll bet two hundred +fur me.' + +"'Nothin' doin', Joe!' I says. 'Stay away from it. I'll tell you when +I gets ready to level. You can't bet them bookies nothin'--they're +wise to him.' + +"'Look-a-here, Bud!' says Joe. 'That bird'll cake-walk among them +crabs. No jock can make him lose, 'n' not get ruled off.' + +"'Leave that to me,' I says. + +"Just as I figgers--my hoss opens up eight-to-five in the books. + +"I gives him all the water he'll drink afore he goes to the post, 'n' I +has bandages on every leg. The paddock judge looks at them bandages, +but he knows the bird's a cripple, 'n' he don't feel 'em. + +"'Them's to hold his legs on, ain't they?' he says, 'n' grins. + +"'Surest thing you know,' I says. But I feels some easier when he's on +his way--_there's seven pounds of lead in each of them bandages_. + +"I don't want the bird whipped when he ain't got a chance. + +"'This hoss backs up if you use the bat on him,' I says to the jock, as +he's tyin' his reins. + +"'He backs up anyway, I guess,' he says, as the parade starts. + +"The bird gets away good, but I'd overdone the lead in his socks. He +finished a nasty last--thirty len'ths back. + +"'Roll over, kid!' says the jock, when I go up to slip him his fee. +'Not fur ridin' that hippo. It 'ud be buglary--he couldn't beat a +piano!' + +"I meets Colonel King comin' out of the judge's stand that evenin'. + +"'An owner's life has its trials and tribulations--eh, my boy?' he says. + +"'Yes, sir!' I says. That's the first time Colonel King ever speaks to +me, 'n' I swells up like a toad. 'I'm gettin' to be all the gravy +'round here,' I says to myself. + +"Two days after this they puts an overnight mile run fur maidens on the +card, 'n' I slips the bird into it. I knowed it was takin' a chance so +soon after his bad race, but it looks so soft I can't stay 'way from +it. I goes to Cal Davis, 'n' tells him to put a bet down. + +"'Oh, ho!' he says. 'Lendin' me a helpin' hand, are you?' Then I +tells him about Nickel. + +"'Did Joe Nickel work him out for you?' he says. 'The best is good +enough fur you, ain't it? I'll see Joe, 'n' if it looks good to him +I'll take a shot at it. Much obliged to you.' + +"'Don't never mention it,' I says. + +"'How do you mean that?' he says, grinnin'. + +"'Both ways,' says I. + +"The mawnin' of the race, I'm givin' the bird's bad leg a steamin', +when a black swipe named Duckfoot Johnson tells me I'm wanted on the +phone over to the secretary's office, 'n' I gets Duckfoot to go on +steamin' the leg while I'm gone. + +"It's a feed man on the phone, wantin' to know when he gets sixteen +bucks I owe him. + +"'The bird'll bring home your coin at four o'clock this afternoon,' I +tells him. + +"'Well, that's lucky,' he says. 'I thought it was throwed to the +birds, 'n' I didn't figure they'd bring it home again.' + +"When I gets back there's a crap game goin' on in front of the stall, +'n' Duckfoot's shootin'. There's a hot towel on the bird's leg, 'n' +it's been there too long. I takes it off 'n' feel where small blisters +has begun to raise under the hair--a little more 'n' it 'ud been clear +to the bone. I cusses Duckfoot good, 'n' rubs vaseline into the leg." + +I interrupted Blister long enough to inquire: + +"Don't they blister horses sometimes to cure them of lameness?" + +"Sure," he replied. "But a hoss don't work none fur quite a spell +afterwards. A blister, to do any good, fixes him so he can't hardly +raise his leg fur two weeks. + +"Well," he went on, "the race fur maidens was the last thing on the +card. I'm in the betting-ring when they chalks up the first odds, 'n' +my hoss opens at twenty-five-to-one. The two entrance moneys have +about cleaned me. I'm only twenty green men strong. I peels off ten +of 'em 'n' shoved up to a booky. + +"'On the nose fur that one,' I says, pointin' to the bird's name. + +"'Quit your kiddin',' he says. 'What 'ud you do with all that money? +This fur yours.' 'N' he rubs to twelve-to-one. + +"'Ain't you the liberal gink?' I says, as he hands me the ticket. + +"'I starts fur the next book, but say!--the odds is just meltin' away. +Joe's 'n' Cal's dough is comin' down the line, 'n' the gazabos, +thinkin' it's wise money, trails. By post-time the bird's a +one-to-three shot. + +"I've give the mount to Sweeney, 'n' like a nut I puts him hep to the +bird, 'n' he tells his valet to bet a hundred fur him. The bird has on +socks again, but this time they're empty, 'n' the race was a joke. He +breaks fifth at the get-away, but he just mows them dogs down. Sweeney +keeps thinkin' about that hundred, I guess, 'cause he rode the bird all +the way, 'n' finished a million len'ths in front. + +"I cashes my ticket, 'n' starts fur the barn to sleep with that bird, +when here comes Joe Nickel. + +"'He run a nice race,' he says, grinnin', 'n' hands me six hundred +bucks. + +"What's this fur?' I says. 'You better be careful . . . I got a weak +heart.' + +"'I win twelve hundred to the race,' he says. ''N' we splits it two +ways.' + +"'Nothin' doin',' I says, 'n' tries to hand him back the wad. + +"'Go awn!' he says, 'I'll give you a soak in the ear. I bet that money +fur you, kiddo.' + +"I looks at the roll 'n' gets wobbly in the knees. I never see so much +kale before--not at one time. Just then we hears the announcer sing +out through a megaphone: + +"'The o-o-owner of Count Nobul-l-l-l is wanted in the judge's stand!' + +"'Oy, oy!' says Joe. 'You'll need that kale--you're goin' to lose your +happy home. It's Katy bar the door fur yours, Bud!' + +"'Don't worry--watch me tell it to 'em,' I says to Joe, as I stuffs the +roll 'n' starts fur the stand. I was feelin' purty good. + +"'Wait a minute,' says Joe, runnin' after me. 'You can't tell them +people nothin'. You ain't wise to that bunch yet. Bud--why, they'll +kid you silly before they hand it to you, 'n' then change the subject +to somethin' interestin', like where to get pompono cooked to suit 'em. +I've been up against it,' he says, ''n' I'm tellin' you right. Just +keep stallin' around when you get in the stand, 'n' act like you don't +know the war's over.' + +"'Furget it,' I says. 'I'll show those big stiffs where to head in. +I'll hypnotize the old owls. I'll give 'em a song 'n' dance that's +right!' + +"As I goes up the steps I see the judges settin' in their chairs, 'n' I +takes off my hat. Colonel King ain't settin', he's standin' up with +his hands in his pockets. Somehow, when I sees _him_ I begins to +wilt--he looks so clean. He's got a white mustache, 'n' his face is +kind-a brown 'n' pink. He looks at me a minute out of them blue eyes +of his. + +"'Are you the owner of Count Noble, Mr.--er--?' + +"'Jones, sir,' I says. + +"'Jones?' says the colonel. + +"'Yes, sir,' I says. + +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'how do you account for the fact that +on Thursday Count Noble performs disgracefully, and on Saturday runs +like a stake horse? Have the days of the week anything to do with it?' + +"I never says nothin'. I just stands there lookin' at him, foolin' +with my hat. + +"'This is hell," I thinks. + +"'The judges are interested in this phenomenon, Mr. Jones, and we have +sent for you, thinking perhaps you can throw a little light on the +matter,' says the colonel, 'n' waits fur me again. + +"'Come on . . . get busy!' I says to myself. 'You can kid along with a +bunch of bums, 'n' it sounds good--don't get cold feet the first time +some class opens his bazoo at you!' But I can't make a noise like a +word, on a bet. + +"'The judges, upon looking over the betting sheets of the two races in +which your horse appeared, find them quite interesting,' says the +colonel. 'The odds were short in the race he did _not_ win; they +remained unchanged--in fact, rose--since only a small amount was +wagered on his chances. On the other hand, these facts are reversed in +to-day's race, which he _won_. It seems possible that you and your +friends who were pessimists on Thursday became optimists today, and +benefited by the change. Have you done so?' + +"I see I has to get some sort-a language out of me. + +"'He was a better hoss to-day--that's all I knows about it,' I says. + +"'The _first_ part of your statement seems well within the facts,' says +the colonel. 'He was, apparently, a much better horse to-day. But +these gentlemen and myself, having the welfare of the American +thoroughbred at heart, would be glad to learn by what method he was so +greatly improved.' + +"I don't know why I ever does it, but it comes to me how Duckfoot +leaves the towel on the bird's leg, 'n' I don't stop to think. + +"'I blistered him,' I says. + +"'You--_what_?' says the colonel. I'd have give up the roll quick, +sooner'n spit it out again, but I'm up against it. + +"'I blisters him', I says. + +"The colonel's face gets red. His eyes bung out 'n' he turns 'round +'n' starts to cough 'n' make noises. The rest of them judges does the +same. They holds on to each other 'n' does it. I know they're givin' +me the laugh fur that fierce break I makes. + +"'You're outclassed, kid!' I says to myself. 'They'll tie a can to +you, sure. The gate fur yours!' + +"Just then Colonel King turns round, 'n' I see I can't look at him no +more. I looks at my hat, waitin' fur him to say I'm ruled off. I've +got a lump in my throat, 'n' I think it's a bunch of bright +conversation stuck there. But just then a chunk of water rolls out of +my eye, 'n' hits my hat--pow! It looks bigger'n Lake Erie, 'n' 'fore I +kin jerk the hat away--pow!--comes another one. I knows the colonel +sees 'em, 'n' I hopes I croak. + +"'Ahem--', he says. + +"'Now I get mine!' I says to myself. + +"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'n' his voice is kind-a cheerful. 'The +judges will accept your explanation. You may go if you wish.'" + +Just as I'm goin' down the steps the colonel stops me. + +"'I have a piece of advice for you, Mr. Jones,' he says. His voice +ain't cheerful neither. It goes right into my gizzard. I turns and +looks at him. '_Keep that horse blistered from now on_!' says the +colonel. + +"Some ginnies is in the weighin'-room under the stand, 'n' hears it +all. That's how I gets my name." + + + + +TWO RINGERS + +"Hello, ole Four Eyes!" was the semi-affectionate greeting of Blister +Jones. "I ain't seed you lately." + +I had found him in the blacksmith shop at Latonia, lazily observing the +smith's efforts to unite Fan Tan and a set of new-made, blue-black +racing-plates. I explained how a city editor had bowed my shoulders +with the labors of Hercules during the last week, and began to acquire +knowledge of the uncertainties connected with shoeing a young +thoroughbred. + +A colored stable-boy stood at Fan Tan's wicked-looking head and +addressed in varied tone and temper a pair of flattened ears. + +"Whoa! Baby-doll! Dat's ma honey--dat's ma petty chile-- . . . Whoa! +Yuh no-'coun' houn', yuh!" The first of the speech had been delivered +soothingly, as the smith succeeded in getting a reluctant hind leg into +his lap; the last was snorted out as the leg straightened suddenly and +catapulted him into a corner of the shop, where he sat down heavily +among some discarded horseshoes. + +The smith arose, sweat and curses dripping from him. + +"Chris!" said Blister, "it's a shame the way you treat that pore filly. +She comes into yer dirty joint like a little lady, fur to get a new +pair of shoes, 'n' you grabs her by the leg 'n' then cusses her when +she won't stand fur it." + +Part of the curses were now directed at Blister. + +"Come on, Four Eyes," he said. "This ain't no place fur a minister's +son." + +"I'd like to stay and see the shoeing!" I protested, as he rose to go. + +"What shoeing?" he asked incredulously. "You ain't meanin' a big +strong guy like Chris manhandlin' a pore little filly? Come awn--I +can't stand to see him abusin' her no more." + +We wandered down to the big brown oval, and Blister, perching himself +on the top rail of the fence, took out his stop-watch, although there +were no horses on the track. + +"What are you going to do with that?" I asked. + +"Got to do it," he grinned. "If I was to set on a track fence without +ma clock in my mitt, I'd get so nur-r-vous! Purty soon I'd be as +fidgity as that filly back there. Feelin' this ole click-click kind-a +soothes my fevered brow." + +In a silence that followed I watched a whipped-cream cloud adrift on +the deepest of deep blue skies. + +"Hi, hum!" said Blister presently, and extending his arms in a pretense +of stretching, he shoved me off the fence. "You're welcome," he said +to my protests, and added: "There's a nice matched pair." + +A boy, leading a horse, was emerging from the mouth of a stall. + +The contrast between them was startling--never had I seen a horse with +so much elegant apparel; rarely had I seen a boy with so little. The +boy, followed by the horse, began to walk a slow circle not far from +where we sat. Suddenly the boy addressed Blister. + +"Say, loan me the makin's, will you, pal?" he drawled. + +From his hip pocket Blister produced some tobacco in a stained muslin +bag and a wad of crumpled cigarette papers. These he tossed toward the +boy. + +"Yours trooly," muttered that worthy, as he picked up the "makin's". +"Heard the news about Hicky Rogers?" he asked, while he rolled a +cigarette. + +"Nothin', except he's a crooked little snipe," Blister answered. + +"Huh! that ain't news," said the boy. "They've ruled him off--that's +what I mean." + +"That don't surprise me none," Blister stated. "He's been gettin' too +smart around here fur quite a while. It'll be a good riddance." + +"Were you ever ruled off the track?" I asked Blister, as the boy, +exhaling clouds of cigarette smoke, returned to the slow walking of his +horse. He studied in silence a moment. + +"Yep--once," he replied. "I got mine at New Awlins fur ringin' a hoss. +That little ole town has got my goat." + +"When was this?" I asked.' + +"The year I first starts conditionin' hosses," he answered. + +I had noticed that dates totally eluded Blister. A past occurrence as +far as its relation to time was concerned, he always established by a +contemporary event of the turf. Pressed as to when a thing had taken +place he would say, "The year Salvation cops all the colt stakes," or +"The fall Whisk-broom wins the Brooklyn Handicap." This had interested +me and I now tried to get something more definite from him. He +answered my questions vaguely. + +"Say, if you're lookin' fur that kind of info," he said at last, "get +the almanac or the byciclopedia. These year things slide by so easy I +don't get a good pike at one, 'fore another is not more'n a len'th +back, 'n' comin' fast." + +I saw it was useless. + +"Well, never mind just when it happened," I said. "Tell me about it." + +"All right," said Blister. "Like I've just said it happens one winter +at New Awlins, the year after I starts conditionin' hosses. + +"Things break bad fur me that winter. Whenever a piker can't win a bet +he comes 'round, slaps me on the wrist, 'n' separates me from some of +my kale. I'm so easy I squeezes my roll if I meets a child on the +street. The cops had ought to patrol me, 'cause larceny'll sure be +committed every time a live guy speaks to me. + +"I've only got three dogs in my string. One of 'em's a mornin'-glory. +He'll bust away as if he's out to make Salvator look like a truck-hoss, +but he'll lay down 'n' holler fur some one to come 'n' carry him when +he hits the stretch. One's a hop-head 'n' I has to shoot enough dope +into him to make him think he's Napoleon Bonyparte 'fore he'll switch a +fly off hisself. Then when he sees how far away the wire is he thinks +about the battle of Waterloo 'n' says, 'Take me to Elby.' + +"I've got one purty fair sort of a hoss. He's just about ready to +spill the beans, fur some odds-on, when he gets cast in the stall 'n' +throws his stifle out. The vet. gets his stifle back in place. + +"'This hoss must have a year's complete rest,' he says. + +"'Yes, Doc,' I says. ''N' when he gets so he can stand it, how'd a +trip to Europe do fur him?' + +"Things go along like this till I'm busted right. No, I ain't +busted--I'm past that. I owes the woman where I eats, I owes the feed +man, I owes the plater, 'n' I owes every gink that'll stand fur a touch. + +"One day a messenger boy comes 'n' leans against the stall door 'n' +pokes a yellow envelope at me. + +"'Well, Pierpont,' I says, 'what's the good word?' + +"'Sign here. Two bits,' he says, yawnin'. + +"I sees where it says 'charges paid,' 'n' I takes him by the back of +the neck 'n' he gets away to a flyin' start fur the gate. The message +is from Buck Harms. + +"'Am at the St Charles, meet me nine a. m. to-morrow,' it says. + +"This Harms duck is named right, 'cause that's what he does to every +guy he meets. He's so crooked he can sleep on a corkscrew. When there +ain't nobody else around he'll take money out of one pocket 'n' put it +in another. He's been ruled off twict 'n' there's no chance fur him to +get back. I wouldn't stand fur him only I'm in so bad I has to do +somethin'. + +"'If he takes any coin from me he'll have to be Hermann,' I says to +myself, 'n' I shows up at the hotel the next mawnin'. + +"Harms is settin' in the lobby readin' the dope-sheet. I pipes him off +'n' he don't look good to me fur a minute, but I goes over 'n' shakes +his mitt. + +"'Well, Blister, old scout, how're they breakin'?' he says. + +"'So, so,' I says. + +"'That right?' he says. 'I hears different. Fishhead Peters tells me +they've got you on the ropes.' + +"'What th' hell does that gassy Fishhead know about me?' I says. + +"'Cut out the stallin',' he says. 'It don't go between friends. Would +you like to git a-holt of a new roll?' + +"'I don't mind tellin' you that sooner 'n have my clothes tore I lets +somebody crowd a bundle of kale on to me,' I says. + +"'That sounds better,' he says. 'Come on--we'll take a cab ride.' + +"'Where we goin'?' I asks him, as we gets into a cab. + +"'Goin' to look at a hoss,' he says. + +"'What fur?' I says. + +"'Wait till we git there 'n' I'll tell you,' he says. + +"We rides fur about a hour 'n' pulls up at a barn out in the edge of +town. We goes inside 'n' there's a big sorrel geldin', with a blaize +face, in a box-stall. + +"'Look him over,' says Harms. I gets one pike at the hoss-- + +"'Why! it's ole Friendless!' I says. + +"'Look close,' he says. 'Wait till I get him outside.' + +"I looks the hoss over careful when he's outside in the light, 'n' I +don't know what to think. First I think it's Friendless 'n' then I +think maybe it ain't. + +"'If it ain't Friendless, it's his double!' I says at last. 'But I +think Friendless has a white forefoot.' + +"'Well, it ain't Friendless,' says Harms as he leads the hoss into the +barn. 'And you're right about the white foot.' + +"Now, Friendless is a bird that ain't started fur a year. Harms or +some of his gang used to own him, 'n' _believe me_, he can _ramble +some_ if everythin' 's done to suit him. He's a funny hoss, 'n' has +notions. If a jock'll set still 'n' not make a move on him, Friendless +runs a grand race. But if a boy takes holt of him or hits him with the +bat, ole Friendless says, 'Nothin' doin' to-day!' 'n' sulks all the +way. He'd have made a great stake hoss only he's dead wise to how much +weight he's packin'. He'll romp with anythin' up to a hundred 'n' ten, +but not a pound over that can you slip him. Looks like he says to +hisself, 'They must think I'm a movin' van,' 'n' he lays his ole ears +back, 'n' dynamite won't make him finish better'n fourth. This little +habit of his'n spoils him 'cause he's too good, 'n' the best he gets +from a handicapper is a hundred 'n' eighteen--that kind of weight lets +him out. + +"Goin' back in the cab Harms tells me why he sends fur me. This dog +he's just showed me 's named Alcyfras. He's been runnin' out on the +coast 'n' he's a mutt--he can't beat a fat man. Harms sees him one day +at Oakland, 'n' has a guy buy him. + +"Harms brings this pup back East. He has his papers 'n' description +all regular. The guy that buys him ain't wise--he's just a boob Harms +is stallin' with. What he wants me to do is to take the hoss in my +string, get him identified 'n' start him a couple of times; then when +the odds is real juicy I'm to start Friendless under the dog's name 'n' +Harms 'n' his gang'll bet him to a whisper at the poolrooms in Chicago +'n' New York. + +"'Where's Friendless now?' I asks him. + +"'They're gettin' him ready on a bull-ring up in Illinois,' says Harms. +'He's in good shape 'n' 'll be dead ripe time we get ready to ship him +down here. I figure we'll put this gag across about Christmas.' + +"'What does the boy wonder get fur swappin' mules with the +Association?' I says. 'I'm just dyin' to know what Santa Claus'll +bring little Alfred.' + +"'You get all expenses, twenty-five bucks a week, 'n' a nice slice of +the velvet when we cleans up,' says Harms. + +"'Nix, on that noise!' says I. 'If you or some other benevolent gink +don't crowd five hundred iron dollars on G. Percival the day before the +bird flies, he won't leave the perch.' + +"'Don't you trust me?' says Harms. + +"'Sure,' I says, 'better'n Cassie Chadwick.' + +"He argues, but it don't get him nothin' so he says he'll come across +the day before Friendless brings home the bacon, 'n' I make him cough +enough to pay what I owes. The next day a swipe leads Alcyfras out to +the track. + +"'What's the name of that dog?' Peewee Simpson yells, as I'm +cross-tyin' the hoss at the stall door. + +"'Alcyfras,' I says, as I pulls the blanket off. Peewee comes over 'n' +looks at the hoss a minute. + +"'Alcy nothin'!' he says. 'If that ain't Friendless, I never sees him.' + +"I digs up the roll Harms give me. + +"I'll gamble this pinch of spinach his name is Alcyfras,' I says. + +"'You kin name what you like far as I'm concerned, 'n' change it every +mawnin' before breakfast,' says Peewee. 'But if you starts him as +anythin' but Friendless we don't see your freckled face 'round here no +more.' + +"By this time a bunch has gathered 'n' soon there's a swell argument +on. One guy'll say it's Friendless 'n' another 'll say it ain't. +Finally somebody says to send fur Duckfoot Johnson, who swiped +Friendless fur two years. They send for him. + +"When Duckfoot comes he busts through the crowd like he's the paddock +judge. + +"'Lemme look at dis hoss,' he says. + +"Everybody draws back 'n' Duckfoot looks the hoss over 'n' then runs +his hand under his barrel close to the front legs. + +"'No, sah, dis ain' Frien'less,' he says. 'Frien'less has a white foot +on de off front laig and besides dat he has a rough-feeling scab on de +belly whar he done rip hisself somehow befo' I gits him. Dis dawg am +smooth as a possum.' + +"That settles all arguments. You can't fool a swipe 'bout a hoss he's +taken care of. He knows every hair on him. + +"One day I'm clockin' this Alcyfras while a exercise-boy sends him +seven-eights. When I looks at my clock I thinks they ought to lay a +thousand-to-one against the mutt, after he starts a couple of times. +Just then somethin' comes 'n' stands in front of me 'n' begins to make +little squeaky noises. + +"'Are you Mr. Blister?' it says. + +"I bats my eyes 'n' nods. + +"'I've got 'em again,' I thinks. + +"'Oh, what a relief!' it squeaks. 'I just thought I'd never find you. +I've been looking all over the race course for you!' + +"'Gracious! Ferdy, you've had a awful time, ain't you?' I says. 'If +you want to stay out of trouble, read your _Ladies' Home Journal_ more +careful.' + +"'My name is Alcibides Tuttle,' says pink toes, drawin' hisself up. +'And I am the owner of the horse called Alcyfras. I purchased this +animal upon the advice of my friend, Mr. Harms, whom I met in San +Francisco.' + +"Say! I've worked fur some nutty owners, but this yap's the limit. + +"'Well, Alci, here comes Alcy now,' I says, as the boy comes up with +the dog, 'n' my new boss stretches his number three neck out of his +number nine collar 'n' blinks at the hoss. + +"Alcibides comes back to the stall with me 'n' from then on he sticks +to me tighter 'n a woodtick. He's out to the track every mawnin' by +nine 'n' he don't leave till after the races. He asks me eighty-seven +squeaky questions a minute all the time we're together. I calls him +'n' his hoss both Alcy fur a while, but I changes him to Elsy--that was +less confusin' 'n' it suits him better. + +"The next week I starts Alcyfras among a bunch of crabs in a seven +furlong sellin' race, 'n' the judges hold up his entrance till I can +identify him. I hands them his papers 'n' they looks up the +description of Friendless in the stud-book, where it shows he's got one +white foot. Then they wire to the breeder of Alcyfras 'n' to the +tracks in California where the dog has started. The answers come back +all proper 'n' to cinch it I produce Elsy as owner. They look Elsy +over while he tells 'em he's bought the hoss. + +"'Gentlemen,' says Colonel King to the other judges, 'the mere sight of +Mr. Tuttle has inspired me with full confidence in his entry and +himself.' He bows to Elsy 'n' Elsy bows to him. The rest of the +judges turn 'round 'n' look at somethin' over across the center-field. + +"I tells Elsy his hoss is all to the merry, but we don't want him to +win till the odds get right. He's standin' beside me at the race, 'n' +Alcyfras runs next to last. + +"'Of course, I realize you are more familiar with horse racing than +myself,' he says; 'but I think you should have allowed him to do a +little better. What method did you employ to make him remain so far in +the rear?' + +"'I tells the jock to pull him,' I says. The boy was usin' the bat +half the trip, but Elsy never tumbles. + +"'What do you say to a jockey when you desire him to lose?' Elsy asks +me. + +"'I just say--"Grab this one,"' I says. + +"'What do you say when you require him to win?' he squeaks. + +"'I don't say nothin'. I hands him a ticket on the hoss 'n' the jock +wins if he has to get down 'n' carry the dog home,' I says. + +"Not long after this, Friendless gets in from Illinois. I look him +over in the car 'n' I see he's not ready. He's not near ready. + +"'What kind of shoemakers give this hoss his prep.?' I asks Harms. + +"'What's wrong with him?' he says. 'He looks good to me.' + +"'He ain't ready,' I says. 'Look at him 'n' feel him! He'll need ten +days more work 'n' a race under his belt 'fore he's safe to bet real +money on.' + +"Harms buys some stuff at a drug store, 'n' gets busy with the white +fore-foot. + +"'Only God A'mighty can make as good a sorrel as that!' he says when +he's through. 'Here's the can of dope. Don't let her fade.' + +"'What are you goin' to do about this Elsy person?' I says. 'While I +ain't sayin' it's pure joy to have him around, I ain't got the heart to +hand it to him. I don't mind trimmin' boobs--that's what they're +for--but this Elsy thing is too soft. He must be in quite a wad on +this bum hoss of his'n.' + +"'Who's Elsy?' says Harms. + +"I tells him, 'n' he laughs. + +"'Is that what you call him?' he says. 'What's bitin' you--ain't +Friendless goin' to win a nice purse for him?' + +"About ten o'clock that night Alcyfras goes out one gate 'n' Friendless +comes in another. I keeps the foot stained good, 'n' shuts the stall +door whenever Duckfoot shows up. In ten days the hoss is right on edge +'n' one race'll put the finish on him, so I enter him, in a bunch of +skates, as Alcyfras. I gives the mount to Lou Smith--he ain't much of +a jock, but he'll ride to orders. Just before the race I has a heart +to heart talk with Lou. + +"'Fur this hoss to win you don't make a move on him,' I says. 'If you +hand him the bat or take hold of him at the get-away he sulks.' + +"'All right, I lets him alone,' says Lou. + +"'When I'm ready fur you to let him alone I slips you a nice ticket on +this bird. You ain't got a ticket to-day, have you?' I says. + +"'Not so's you could notice,' says Lou. + +"'Are you hep?' I says. + +"'I got-cha, Bo,' says Lou. + +"I see Lou's arm rise 'n' fall a couple of times at the start 'n' ole +Friendless finished fifth, his ears laid back, sulkier 'n a grass widow +at a married men's picnic. + +"'You let him do better to-day,' says Elsy. 'Isn't it time to allow +him to win?' + +"'He wins his next out,' I says. + +"I tell Harms we're ready fur the big show 'n' I looks fur a nice race +to drop the good thing into. But it starts to rain 'n' it keeps it up +a week. Friendless ain't a mudder 'n' we has to have a fast track fur +our little act of separating the green stuff from the poolrooms. I'm +afraid the bird stales off if I don't get a race into him, so I enters +him among a pretty fair bunch of platers, to keep him on edge. + +"Three days before the race the weather gets good 'n' the track begins +to dry out fast. I see it's goin' to be right fur my race 'n' I meets +Harms 'n' tells him to wire his bunch to bet their heads off. + +"'I don't like this race,' he says, when he looks at the entries. +'There's two or three live ones in here. This Black-jack ain't such a +bad pup, 'n' this here Pandora runs a bang-up race her last out. Let's +wait fur somethin' easier.' + +"'Well, if you ain't a sure-thing better, I never gets my lamps on +one!' I says. 'Don't you want me to saw the legs off the rest of them +dogs to earn my five hundred? You must have forgot ole Friendless. +He's only got ninety-six pounds up! He'll tin can sure! He kin fall +down 'n' roll home faster than them kind of hosses.' + +"But Harms won't take a chance, so I goes back to the track 'n' I was +sore. + +"'That guy's a hot sport, not!' I thinks. + +"I hates to tell Elsy the hoss he thinks is his won't win--he'd set his +little heart on it so. I don't tell him till the day before the race, +'n' he gets right sassy about it. I never see him so spunky. + +"'As owner, I insist that you allow Alcyfras to win this race,' he +says, 'n' goes away in a pet when I tells him nix. + +"The day of the race I don't see Elsy at all. + +"'You ain't got a ticket to-day, 'n' you know the answer,' I says to +Lou Smith as the parade starts. He don't say nothin' but nods, so I +think he's fixed. + +"When I come through the bettin' ring I can't believe my eyes. There's +Alcyfras at four-to-one all down the line. He opened at fifty, so +somebody has bet their clothes on him. + +"'Where does all this play on Alcyfras come from?' I says to a booky. + +"'A lost shrimp wanders in here and starts it,' says the booky. + +"'What does he look like?' I says. + +"'Like a maiden's prayer,' says the booky, 'n' I beats it out to the +stand. + +"Elsy is at the top of the steps lookin' kind of haughty, 'n' +say!--he's got a bundle of tickets a foot thick in his hand. + +"'What dead one's name is on all them soovenirs?' I says, pointin' to +the tickets. + +"'Mr. Blister,' he says, 'after our conversation yesterday I made +inquiry concerning the rights of a trainer. I was informed that a +trainer, as a paid employee, is under the direction of the owner--his +employer. You refused to allow my horse to win, contrary to my wishes. +You had no right to do so. I intend that he _shall_ win, and have +wagered accordingly--these tickets are on Alcyfras.' He's nervous 'n' +fidgity, 'n' his voice is squeakier 'n ever. + +"'Well, Mr. Belmont,' I says, 'did you happen to give instructions to +any more of your employees, your jockey, fur instance?' + +"'I have adopted the method you informed me was the correct one,' he +says, swellin' up. 'I gave a ticket at fifty-to-one calling for one +hundred and two dollars to Mr. Smith, and explained to him that I was +the owner.' + +"Before Elsy gets through I'm dopey. I looks over his tickets 'n' he +figures to win eight thousand to the race. I have two iron men in my +jeans--I don't even go down 'n' bet it. + +"'What's the use?' I says to myself. + +"I can't hardly see the race, I'm so groggy from the jolt Elsy hands +me. Friendless breaks in front and stays there all the way. Lou Smith +just sets still 'n' lets the hoss rate hisself. That ole hound comes +down the stretch a-rompin', his ears flick-flackin' 'n' a smile on his +face. He wins by five len'ths 'n' busts the track record fur the +distance a quarter of a second. + +"Then it begins to get brisk around there. I figger to have Alcyfras +all warmed up outside the fence the day Friendless wins. After the +race I'd put _him_ in the stall 'n' send Friendless out the gate. +Elsy, practisin' the owner act, has gummed the game--Alcyfras is over +in the other end of town. + +"Ole Friendless bustin' the track record is the final blow. I don't +hardly get to the stall 'fore here comes the paddock judge 'n' his +assistant. + +"'We want this hoss and you, too, over at the paddock,' he says. +'What's the owner's name?' + +"'Alcibides Tuttle,' I says. + +"'Is that all?' says the paddock judge. 'Go get him, Billy!' he says +to his assistant. 'You'll likely find him cashin' tickets.' + +"When we gets to the paddock, there's Colonel King and the rest of the +judges. + +"'Take his blanket off,' says the colonel, when we leads in the hoss. + +"'He's red-hot, Colonel,' I says. + +"'So am I,' says the colonel. 'Who was caretaker for the horse +Friendless when he was racing?' he asks some of the ginnies. + +"'Duckfoot Johnson,' says the whole bunch at once. + +"'Send for him,' says the colonel. + +"'I's hyar, boss,' says Duckfoot, from the back of the crowd. + +"'Come and look this horse over,' says the colonel. + +"'I done looked him over befo', boss,' says Duckfoot, when he gets to +the colonel. + +"'When?' says the colonel. 'When did you see him?' + +"''Bout a month ago,' says Duckfoot. + +"'Did you recognize him?' says the colonel. + +"'Yes, sah,' says Duckfoot, 'I done recnomize him thoully fum his haid +to his tail, but I ain' never seed him befo'.' + +"'Recnomize him again,' the colonel tells him. + +"'Boss,' says Duckfoot, 'some folks 'low dis hoss am Frien'less, but +hit ain'. Ef hits Frien'less, an' yo' puts yo' han' hyar on his belly +dey is a rough-feelin' scab. Dis hoss am puffeckly smo-o--' then he +stops 'n' begins to get ashy 'round the mouth. + +"'Well?' says the colonel. 'What's the matter?' + +"'Lawd Gawd, boss! _Dis am Frien'less . . . Hyar's de scah_!' says +Duckfoot, his eyes a-rollin'. Then he goes 'round 'n' looks at the +hoss in front. 'Whar his white foot at?' he asks the colonel. + +"'That's what we are about to ascertain,' says the colonel. 'Boy,' he +says to a ginny, 'run out to the drug store with this dollar and bring +me back a pint of benzine and a tooth-brush.' + +"The ginny beats it. + +"'You may blanket this horse now,' the colonel says to me. + +"When the ginny gets back, Colonel King pours the benzine on the +tooth-brush 'n' goes to work on the off-forefoot. It ain't long till +it's nice 'n' white again. + +"'That is most remarkable!' says Elsy, who's watchin' the colonel. + +"'In my opinion, Mr. Tuttle,' says the colonel, 'the only remarkable +feature of this affair is yourself. I can't get you properly placed. +The Association will take charge of this horse until the judges rule.' + +"The next day the judges send fur me 'n' Elsy. It don't take Colonel +King thirty seconds to rule me off--I don't get back fur two years, +neither! Then the colonel looks at Elsy. + +"'Mr. Tuttle,' he says, 'if your connection with this business is as +innocent as it seems, you should be protected against a further +appearance on the turf. On the other hand, if you have acted a part in +this little drama, the turf should be protected against you. In either +case the judges desire to bring your career as an owner to a close; and +we hereby bar you and your entries from all tracks of the Association. +This is final and irrevocable.' + +"Three years after that I'm at Hot Springs, 'n' I drops into McGlade's +place one night to watch 'em gamble. There's a slim guy dealin' faro +fur the house, 'n' he's got a green eye-shade on. All of a sudden he +looks up at me. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'do you ever tumble there's two ringers in the New +Awlins deal? Me 'n' Buck Harms has quite a time puttin' it +over--without slippin' you five hundred.' + +"It's Elsy! 'N' say!--_his voice ain't any squeakier 'n mine_!" + + + + +WANTED--A RAINBOW + +At our last meeting Blister had told me of a "ringing" in years gone by +that had ended disastrously for him. And now as we idled in the big +empty grand-stand a full hour before it would be electrified by the +leaping phrase, "They're off!" I desired further reminiscences. + +"Ringing a horse must be a risky business?" I ventured. + +"Humph!" grunted Blister, evidently declining to comment on the obvious. +Then he glanced at me with a dry whimsical smile. "I see that little ole +pad stickin' out of your pocket," he said. "Ain't she full of race-hoss +talk yet?" + +"Always room for one more," I replied, frankly producing the note-book. + +"Well, I guess I'm the goat," he said resignedly. "I _had_ figured to +sick you on to Peewee Simpson to-day, but he ain't around, so I'll spill +some chatter about ringin' a hoss among the society bunch one time, 'n' +then I'll buy a bucket of suds." + +"_I'll_ buy the beer," I stated with emphasis. + +"All right--just so we get it--I'll be dryer'n a covered bridge," said +Blister. + +"This ringin' I mentions," he went on, "happens while I'm ruled off. + +"At the get-away I've got a job with a Chicago buyer, who used to live in +New York. This guy has a big ratty barn. He deals mostly in broken-down +skates that he sells to pedlers 'n' cabmen. Once in a while he takes a +flier in high-grade stuff, 'n' one day he buys a team of French coach +hosses from a breedin' farm owned by a millionaire. + +"Believe me they was a grand pair--seal brown, sixteen hands 'n' haired +like babies. They fans their noses with their knees, when get's the +word, 'n' after I sits behind 'em 'n' watches their hock-action fur a +while I feels like apologizin' to 'em fur makin' 'em haul a bum like me. + +"These dolls go East,' says the guy I works fur. 'They don't pull no +pig-sticker in this burg. They'll be at the Garden so much they'll head +fur Madison Square whenever they're taken out.' + +"He ships the pair East 'n' sends me with 'em as caretaker. I deliver +'em to a swell sales company up-town in New York. + +"This concern has some joint--take it from me--every floor is just +bulgin' with hosses that's so classy they sends 'em to a manicure parlor +'stead of a blacksmith's shop. + +"There's a big show-ring, with a balcony all 'round it, on the top floor. +They take my pair up there 'n' hook 'em to a hot wagon painted yellow, +'n' the company's main squeeze, named Brown, comes up to see 'em act. +I'm facin' the door just as a guy starts to lead a hoss into the +show-ring. The pair swings by, this hoss shies back sudden 'n' I see him +make a queer move with his off rear leg. Brown don't see it--he's got +his back to the door. + +"The guy leads the hoss up to us. + +"'Here's that hunter I phoned you about, Mr. Brown,' he says. The hoss +is a toppy trick--bright bay, short backed, good coupled 'n' 'll weigh +eleven hundred strong. But he's got a knot on his near-fore that shows +plain. + +"'I thought you told me he was sound?' says Brown, lookin' at the knot. + +"'What's the matter with you, Mr. Brown?' says the guy. 'That little +thing don't bother him. Any eight-year-old hunter that knows the game is +bound to be blemished in front.' + +"'Can you tell an unsound one when you look at him?' Brown asks me. + +"'I can smell a dink a mile off,' I says. + +"'Here's an outside party,' says Brown; 'let's hear what he has to say. +Feel that bump, young man!' he says to me. + +"I runs my hand over the knot. + +"'That don't hurt him,' I says. 'It's on the shin 'n' part of it's thick +skin.' + +"'There!' says the guy. 'Your own man's against you.' + +"'He's not my man,' says Brown, lookin' at me disgusted. + +"'This ain't my funeral,' I says to Brown. ''N' I ain't had a call to +butt in. If you tells me to butt--I butts.' + +"'Go to it,' says Brown. + +"'Do you throw a crutch in with this one?' I says to the guy. + +"'What does he need a crutch for?' he says, givin' me a sour look. + +"I takes the hoss by the head, backs him real sudden, 'n' he lifts the +off-rear high 'n' stiff. + +"'He's a stringer,' I says. + +"Brown gives the guy the laugh. + +"'You might get thirty dollars from a Jew pedler for him,' he says. +'He'll make a high-class hunter--for paper, rags and old iron.' + +"'How did you know that horse was string-halted so quick?' says Brown to +me when the guy has gone. + +"'I told you I can smell a dink,' I says. But I don't tell him what I +sees at the door. + +"'I think we could use you and your nose around here,' he says. 'Are you +stuck on Chicago?' + +"'Me fur this joint,' I says, lookin' 'round. 'Do I have to get my hair +waved more 'n' twict a week?' + +"'We'll waive that in your case,' he says, laughin' at his bum joke. + +"'Don't do that again,' I says. 'I've a notion to quit right here.' + +"'I'd hate to lose an old employee like you--I'll have to be more +careful,' he says--'n' I'm workin' fur Mr. Brown. + +"About a week after this, I'm bringin' a hackney up to the showroom fur +Brown to look at, when a young chap dressed like a shoffer stops me. + +"'I wish to see Mr. Brown, my man,' he says. 'Can you tell me where he +is?' + +"No shofe can spring this 'my man' stuff on _me_, 'n' get away with it. +But a blind kitten can see this guy's all the gravy. There's somethin' +about him makes you think the best ain't near as good as he wants. I +tells him to come along with me, 'n' when we gets up to the showroom he +sticks a card at Brown. + +"'Yes, indeed--Mr. Van Voast!' says Brown, when he squints at the card. +'You're almost the only member of your family I have been unable to +serve. I believe I have read that you are devoted to the motor game.' + +"'That's an indiscretion I hope to rectify--I want a hunter,' says the +young chap. + +"'Take that horse down and bring up Sally Waters,' says Brown to me. + +"This Sally Waters is a chestnut mare that's kep' in a big stall where +she gets the best light 'n' air in the buildin'. A lot of guys have +looked at her, but the price is so fierce nobody takes her. + +"'Is that the best you have?' says the young chap, when I gets back with +her. + +"'Yes, Mr. Van Voast,' says Brown. 'And she's as good as ever stood on +four legs! She'll carry your weight nicely, too.' + +"'Is she fast?' says the young chap. + +"'After racing at ninety miles an hour, anything in horse-flesh would +seem slow to you, I presume,' says Brown. 'But she is an extremely fast +hunter, and very thorough at a fence.' + +"'Do you know Ferguson's Macbeth?' says the young chap. + +"'I ought to,' says Brown. 'We imported Macbeth and Mr. Ferguson bought +him from me.' + +"The young chap studies a minute. + +"'I might as well tell you that I want a hunter to beat Macbeth for the +Melford Cup,' he says at last. + +"'Oh, oh!' says Brown. 'That's too large an order, Mr. Van Voast--I +can't fill it.' + +"'You don't think this mare can beat Macbeth?' says the young chap. + +"'No, sir, I do not,' says Brown. 'Nor any other hunter I ever saw. +There might be something in England that would be up to it, but I don't +know what it would be--and money wouldn't buy it if I knew.' + +"The young chap won't look at the mare no more, 'n' Brown tells me to put +her up. I hustles her back to the stall, 'n' goes down to the street +door 'n' waits. There's a big gray automobile at the curb, with six guns +stickin' out of her side in front--she looks like a battle-ship. Pretty +soon the young chap comes out 'n' starts to board her 'n' I braces him. + +"'I think I know where you can get the hoss you're lookin' fur,' I says. + +"He stares at me kind-a puzzled fur a minute. + +"'Oh, yes, you are the man who brought the mare up-stairs,' he says. +'What leads you to believe you can find a hunter good enough to beat +Macbeth?' + +"'I ain't said nothin' about a hunter,' I says. 'Would you stand fur a +ringer?' + +"'I think I get your inference,' he says. 'Be a little more specific, +please.' + +"'If I puts you hep to a hoss that ain't no more a hunter than that +automobile,' I says, 'but can run like the buzz-wagon 'n' jump like a +hunter--could you use him in your business?' + +"'What sort of a horse would that be?' he says. + +"'A thoroughbred,' I says. 'A bang-tail.' + +"'Oh--a runner,' he says. 'Do you know anything about the runners?' + +"'A few,' I says. 'I'm on the track nine years.' + +"'What are you doing here?' he says. + +"'Ruled off,' I says. + +"'Hm-m!' he says. 'What for?' + +"'Ringin',' I says. + +"'You seem to run to that sort of thing,' he says. 'What's your name?' +he asks. + +"'Blister Jones,' I says. + +"'Delightful!' he says. 'I'm glad I met you. Who has this remarkable +horse?' + +"'Peewee Simpson,' I says. + +"'Equally delightful! I'd like to meet him, too,' he says. + +"'He's in Loueyville,' I says. + +"'Regrettable,' he says. 'What's the name of his horse?' + +"'Rainbow,' I says. + +"'And I thought this was to be a dull day,' he says. 'Jump in here and +take a ride. I don't know that I care to go rainbow-chasing assisted by +Blisters, and Peewees--but nefarious undertakings have always appealed to +me, and I desire to cultivate your acquaintance.' + +"We goes fur a long ride in the battle-ship. He don't say much--just +asks questions 'n' listens to my guff. At last I opens up on the Rainbow +deal, 'n' I tries all I know to get him goin'--I sure slips him some warm +conversation. + +"'You heard what Brown said of Macbeth!' he says. 'Why are you so +certain this Rainbow can beat him in a steeplechase?' + +"'Why, listen, man!' I says. 'This Rainbow is the best ever. He can +beat any brush-topper now racin' if the handicapper don't overload him. +_He's_ been coppin' where they race your eyeballs off. _He's_ been +makin' good against the real thing. _He's a thoroughbred_! If _he_ +turns in one of these here parlor races fur gents, with a bunch of +hunters, _they won't know which way he went_!' + +"'The runners I have seen are all neck and legs. They don't look like +hunters at all,' he says. + +"'You're thinkin' about these here flat-shouldered sprinters,' I says. +'This Rainbow is a brush-topper. He's got a pair of shoulders on _him_ +'n' he's the jumpin'est thoroughbred ever I saw. Course he's rangier 'n +most huntin'-bred hosses, but with a curb to put some bow in his neck, +he'll pass fur a hunter anywhere!' + +"'There is one sad thing I haven't told you,' he says. 'I must ride the +horse myself.' + +"'What's sad about that?' I says. 'You ain't much over a hundred 'n' +forty, at a guess.' + +"'The trouble is not with my weight--it's my disposition,' he says. 'I +have not ridden for ten years. In fact I never rode much. To tell you +the truth--I'm afraid of a horse.' + +"Say--I'd liked that young chap fine till then! I think he's handin' me +a josh at first. + +"'You're kiddin' me, ain't you?' I says. + +"'No,' he says. 'I'm not kidding you. I've fought my fear of horses +since I was old enough to think. Lately it has become necessary for me +to ride, and I'm going to do it--it it kills me!' + +"We were back to my joint by this time 'n' he looks at me 'n' laughs. + +"'Cheer up!' he says. 'I'll think over what you told me and let you +know. I go over to Philadelphia to-morrow to race in a "buzz-wagon," as +you call it. I don't want you to think me entirely chicken-hearted--and +I'll take you with me, if Brown can spare you.' + +"The next day he shows up in the battle-ship. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'I don't know just how far I'll be willing to go in +the affair, but if you can get Rainbow, I'll buy him.' + +"'Now you've said somethin',' I says. 'Head fur the nearest telegraph +office 'n' I'll wire Peewee.' + +"'They're likely to ask a stiff price fur this hoss,' I says when we gets +to the telegraph office. + +"'Buy him,' he says. + +"'_Do you mean the sky's the limit_?' I says, 'n' he nods. + +"We cross on the ferry after sendin' the wire. He has the battle-ship +under wraps till we hit the open country, 'n' then he lets her step. We +gets to goin' faster 'n' faster. I can't see, 'n' I think my eyebrows +have blowed off. I'm so scared I feel like my stumick has crawled up in +my chest, but I hopes this is the limit, 'n' I grits my teeth to keep +from yelpin'. Just then we hits a long straight road, 'n' what we'd been +doin' before seemed like backin' up. I can't breathe 'n' I can't stand +no more of it. + +"'Holy cats!' I yells. 'Cut it!' + +"'What's the matter?' he says, when he's slowed down. + +"'Holy cats!' I says again. 'Is that what racin' in these things is +like?' + +"'Oh, no,' he says. 'My mechanic took my racing car over yesterday. +This is only a roadster.' + +"'Only a--what?' I says. + +"'Only a roadster--a pleasure car,' he says. + +"'Oh--a pleasure car,' I says. 'It's lucky you told me.' + +"'It's all in getting accustomed to it,' he says. + +"I spends the night at a hotel in Philadelphia with a guy named Ben, +who's the mechanic, 'n' the next mawnin' I sees the race. Say! +Prize-fightin', or war, or any of them little games is like button-button +to this automobile racin'! They kills two guys that day 'n' why they +ain't all killed is by me. The young chap finishes second to some +Eyetalian--but that Dago sure knowed he'd been in a race. + +"''N' he's the guy that's afraid of a hoss!' I says to myself. 'Now, +wouldn't that scald you?' + +"When he leaves me at my joint in New York the young chap writes on a +card 'n' hands it to me. + +"'Here's my name and present address,' he says. 'Let me know when you +hear from our friend Peewee.' + +"Printed on the card is 'Mr. William Dumont Van Voast,' 'n' in pencil, +'Union Club, New York City.' + +"The next day I gets a wire from Peewee in answer to mine. + +"'Sound as a dollar. Eighteen hundred bones buys him. P. W. Simpson,' +it says. + +"I phones Mr. Van, 'n' he says to go to it--so I wires Peewee. + +"'Check on delivery if sound. You know me. Ship with swipe first +express. Blister Jones.' + +"In two days Duckfoot Johnson leads ole Rainbow into the joint, 'n' I +tells Brown it's a hoss fur Mr. Van. I looks him over good 'n' he's O. +K. I gets Mr. Van on the phone 'n' he comes up 'n' writes a check fur +eighteen hundred, payable to Peewee. He gives this to Duckfoot, slips +him twenty-five bucks fur hisself, 'n' hands him the fare back to +Loueyville besides. + +"'What next?' says Mr. Van to me. 'Do we need a burglar's kit, and some +nitroglycerin, or does that class of crime come later?' + +"'We want a vet. right now,' I says. 'This bird has got to lose some +tail feathers.' + +"'Well, you are the chief buccaneer!' says Mr. Van. 'I'll serve as one +of the pirate crew at present. When you have the good ship Rainbow +shortened at the stem and ready to carry the jolly Roger over the high +seas--I should say, fences--let me know. In the meantime,' he says, +slippin' me five twenties, 'here are some pieces-of-eight with which to +buy cutlasses, hand grenades and other things we may need.' + +"I has the vet. dock Rainbow's tail, 'n' as soon as it heals I lets Mr. +Van know. He tells me to bring the hoss to Morrisville, New Jersey, on +the three o'clock train next day. + +"When I unloads from the express car at Morrisville, there's Mr. Van and +a shoffer in the battle-ship. + +"'Just follow along behind, Blister!' says Mr. Van, 'n' drives off slow +down the street. + +"We go through town 'n' out to a big white house, with pillars down the +front. Mr. Van stops the battle-ship at the gates. + +"'Take the car to the Williamson place--Mr. Williamson understands,' he +says to the shofe. + +"I wonders why he stops out here--it's a quarter of a mile to the house. +When we gets to the house there's an old gent, with gray hair, settin' on +the porch. He gets up when he sees us, 'n' limps down the steps with a +cane. + +"'Don't disturb yourself, Governor!' says Mr. Van. 'Anybody here?' + +"'No, I'm alone,' says the old gent. 'Your sister is with the +Dandridges. Your man came this morning, so I was expecting you.' Then +he looks at Rainbow. 'What's that?' he says. + +"'A horse I've bought,' says Mr. Van. 'I'm thinking of going in for +hunting.' + +"'Oh! _She's_ brought you to it, has she?' says the old gent. '_I_ +never could. Why do you bring the horse here?' + +"Mr. Van flushes up. + +"'You know what a duffer I am on a horse, Governor,' he says. 'Well, I +want to try for the Melford Cup. I'd like to build a course on the +place, and school myself under your direction.' + +"'Ah, ha!' says the old gent. 'And then the conquering hero will descend +on Melford, to capture the place in general, and one of its fair +daughters in particular!' + +"'Something like that,' says Mr. Van. + +"'I'll be glad to help you all I can,' says the old gent, 'just so long +as you don't bring one of those stinking things you usually inhabit on +these premises!' + +"'It's a bargain. I've already sent the one I came in to Ralph +Williamson,' says Mr. Van, 'n' we takes Rainbow to the stables. + +"I liked Mr. Van's old man right away, 'n' when he finds out I knows as +much about a hoss as he does, he treats me like a brother. + +"He gets busy quick, 'n' has the men fix up a mile course on the place +with eight fences in it--some of 'em fierce. + +"'Twice around, and you have the Melford course to a dot,' he says. +'Now, young man,' he says to me, 'you get the horse ready and I'll go to +work on the rider.' 'N' believe me, he does it. + +"His bum leg won't let him ride no more, but he puts Mr. Van on a good +steady jumper, 'n' drives besides the course in a cart, tellin' him what +to do. He keeps Mr. Van goin' till I think he'll put him out of +business--'n' say!--but he cusses wicked when things don't go to suit him! + +"'Stick your knees in and keep your backbone limber! Hold his head up +now at this jump--_don't drag at his mouth that way_! Why! damn it +all! . . . you haven't as good hands as a cab-driver,' is the kind of +stuff he keeps yellin' at poor Mr. Van. + +"I'm workin' Rainbow each day, 'n' in three weeks I take him twice around +the course at a good clip. + +"'The hoss'll do in another week,' I says to the old gent. + +"'I'll be ready fur you,' he says, shuttin' his mouth, 'n' that was the +worst week of all for Mr. Van. But he improved wonderful, 'n' one +mawnin' he takes Rainbow over the course at speed. + +"'Not half bad!' says the old gent when they come back. 'He's not up to +his horse yet,' he says to me. 'But between 'em they'll worry that +Melford crowd some, or I miss my guess!' + +"A day or so after that we starts for Melford. The old gent says good-by +to me, 'n' then he sticks out his mitt at Mr. Van. + +"'God bless you, boy!' he says. 'I wish you luck both in the race +and--elsewhere.' + +"Say, this Melford is the horsiest burg ever I saw! They don't do +nothin' but ride 'em 'n' drive 'em 'n' chew the rag about 'em--men 'n' +women the same. Even the kids has toppy little ponies and has hoss shows +fur their stuff. + +"They has what they call a Hunt Club, 'n' everybody hangs out there. +This club gives the cup Mr. Van wants to win. The race fur it is pulled +off once a year, 'n' only club members can enter. + +"The Ferguson guy has won the race twice with the Macbeth hoss 'n' if he +wins it again he keeps the cup. The race is due in two weeks, but there +ain't much talk about it--everybody knows Ferguson'll win sure. + +"This Ferguson has all the kale in the world. He lives in a house so big +it looks like the Waldorf. But from what I hear, the bloods ain't so +awful strong fur him--except his ridin', they all take their hats off to +that. + +"There's a girl named Livingston 's the best rider among the dames, 'n', +believe me, she's a swell doll--she's the niftiest filly I ever gets my +lamps on--she's all to the peaches 'n' cream. + +"It don't take me long to see that Mr. Van is nutty, right, about this +one, but it looks like Ferguson has the bulge on him, 'cause her 'n' +Ferguson is always out in front when they chase the hounds, 'n' they ride +together a lot. We're at Mr. Van's brother's place, 'n' when we first +get there Mr. Van puts me wise. + +"'Blister,' he says, 'you must now assume the disguise of a groom. While +you and I know we are partners in crime, custom requires an outward +change in our heretofore delightful relationship--keep your eyes open and +act accordingly.' + +"I'm dead hep to what he means, 'n' when I'm rigged up like all the rest +of the swipes around there, I touches my hat to him whenever he tells me +anythin'. + +"Everybody joshes Mr. Van about his ridin', but they get over that +sudden--the first time he chases hounds with 'em ole Rainbow 'n' him +stays right at the head of the procession. I'm waitin' at the club to +take the hoss home after the run. When Mr. Van is turnin' him over to me +Miss Livingston comes up. + +"'I'm so _proud_ of you!' she says to him. 'It was splendid . . . I told +you you could do anything you tried!' + +"'Rainbow's the chap who deserves your approval,' says Mr. Van, pointin' +to the hoss. + +"'Indeed, he does--the old precious!' she says, 'n' rubs her face against +Rainbow's nose. Just then Ferguson rides up with a English gink who's a +friend of Mr. Van's, 'n' the dame beats it into the club-house. This +Englishman is a lord or a duke or somethin', 'n' he's visitin' Mr. Van's +brother. Ferguson ain't on Macbeth. He's rode a bay mare that day, 'n' +Rainbow has outrun 'n' out-jumped her. + +"'That's quite a horse you have there, Van,' Ferguson says. 'A bit +leggy--isn't he?' + +"'Perhaps he is,' says Mr. Van. 'But I like something that can get over +the country.' + +"'Going to enter him for the cup?' says Ferguson. + +"'I don't know yet,' says Mr. Van, careless. 'I must see the committee, +and tell them his antecedents--this horse rather outclasses most hunters.' + +"'He doesn't outclass mine, over the cup course, for five thousand!' says +Ferguson, gettin' red. + +"'Done!' says Mr. Van, quiet-like. 'If the committee says I'm eligible +we'll settle it in the cup race. If not, we can run a match.' + +"'Entirely satisfactory,' says Ferguson, 'n' starts to go. But he comes +back, 'n' looks at Mr. Van wicked. 'By the way,' he says, 'money doesn't +interest either of us at present. Suppose we raise the stake this +way--the loser will take a trip abroad, for a year, and in the meantime +we both agree to let matters rest--in a certain quarter.' + +"'Done!' says Mr. Van again. He looks at the other guy colder 'n ice +when he says it. + +"Ferguson nods to him 'n' rides off. + +"The English gink has heard the bet, 'n' when Ferguson beats it he shakes +his head. + +"'Aw, old chap!' he says. 'That's a bit raw--don't you think? I'm sorry +you let him draw you. It's a beastly mess.' + +"'I'm not afraid of him and his horse!' says Mr. Van. But I can see he +ain't feelin' joyous. + +"'Damn him and his hawss--and you too!' says the English gink. 'Aw, it's +the young girl you've dragged into it, Billy!' + +"'It's a confidential matter, and no names were mentioned,' says Mr. Van. + +"'Don't quibble, old chap!' says the English gink. 'The name's nothing. +And as for its being confidential--Ferguson is sure to tell +that--aw--French puppy he's so thick with, and the viscawnt'll +be--aw--tea-tabling it about by five o'clock!' + +"'You're right, of course,' says Mr. Van, slow. 'It was a low thing to +do--a cad's trick. No wonder you English are so rotten superior. You +don't need brains--the right thing's bred into your bones. Your tempers +never show you up. We revert to the gutter at the pinch.' + +"'Oh, I say! That's bally nonsense!' says the English gink. 'I would +have done the same thing.' + +"'Not unless the fifteen hundred years it's taken to make you were wiped +off the slate,' says Mr. Van. 'However, I'll have to see it through now.' + +"The guys that run the club say Rainbow can start in the cup race. Mr. +Van tells me, 'n' the next week I watch him while he sends the hoss over +the course. We're comin' up towards the club-house, after the work-out, +'n' we run into Miss Livingston. She hands Mr. Van the icy stare 'n' he +starts to say something but she breaks in. + +"'I wonder you care to waste any words on a mere racing wager,' she says. + +"'Please let me try to explain . . .' says Mr. Van. + +"'There can be no explanation. What you did was the act of a boor--and a +fool,' says the dame, 'n' walks on by. + +"I think over what she says. 'She's more sore cause she thinks he'll +lose than anythin' else,' I says to myself. 'He ain't in so bad, after +all.' But Mr. Van don't tumble. He's awful glum from then on. + +"There's a fierce mob of swells at the course the day of the race, classy +rigs as far as you can see. The last thing I says to Mr. Van is: + +"'You've got the step of them any place in the route, but you're on a +thoroughbred, 'n' he'll run hisself into the ground if you let him. You +don't know how to rate him right--so stay close to the Macbeth hoss till +you come to the last fence, then turn Rainbow loose, 'n' he'll make his +stretch-run alone.' + +"There's six entries, but the race is between Rainbow and Macbeth from +the get-away. Macbeth is a black hoss, 'n' I never believed till then a +hunter could romp that fast. He was three len'ths ahead of the field at +the first fence, with Rainbow right at his necktie. They gets so far +ahead, nobody sees the other starters from the second fence on. Mr. Van +rides just like I tells him, 'n' lets the black hoss make the pace. +Man!--that hunter did run! Towards the end both hosses begin to tire, +but the clip was easier fur the thoroughbred, 'n' I see Rainbow's got the +most left. + +"Before they come to the last fence Mr. Van turns his hoss loose like I +tells him, 'n' he starts to come away from Macbeth. My! but those swells +did holler! They never thought Rainbow has a chance. At the last fence +he's a len'th in front, 'n' right there it happens Mr. Van don't take +hold of him enough to keep his head up, 'n' he blunders at the fence 'n' +comes down hard on his knees. Mr. Van slides clear to the hoss's ears, +'n' the crowd gives a groan as Macbeth comes over 'n' goes by. + +"'He's gone!' I says to myself, 'n' I can't believe it when he gets back +in the saddle somehow 'n' starts to ride. But the black hoss has a good +six len'ths 'n' now two hundred yards to go. + +"'He'll never reach . . .' I says out loud. 'He'll never reach . . .' + +"Then Rainbow begins his stretch-run with the blood comin' out of his +knees, 'n' while he's a tired hoss, a gamer one never looks through a +bridle. I ain't knockin' that hunter--there was no canary in him, but I +think a game thoroughbred's the gamest hoss that lives! + +"Ole Rainbow is a straight line from his nose to his tail. His ears is +flat 'n' his mouth's half open fur air. Every jump he takes looks thirty +feet long 'n' he's gettin' to the black hoss fast. I'm watchin' the +distance to go 'n' all of a sudden I furgets where I am--. + +"'He wins sure as hell!' I hollers. + +"'Oh, will he?' says a voice. I looks up 'n' there's Miss Livingston +sittin' on her hoss, her fists doubled up 'n' her face whiter'n chalk. + +"About ten len'ths from the finish Rainbow gets to the black 'n' they +look each other in the eye. But them long jumps of the thoroughbred +breaks the hunter's heart, 'n' Rainbow comes away, 'n' wins by a +len'th. . . . + +"After I've cooled Rainbow out, 'n' bandaged his knees at the club +stables, I starts fur home with him. + +"I'm just leavin' the main road, to take the short cut, when Miss +Livingston gallops by, with a groom trailin'. She looks up the +cross-road, sees me 'n' the hoss, 'n' reins in. She says somethin' to +the groom 'n' he goes on. + +"Miss Livingston comes up the crossroad alone, 'n' stops when she gets to +us. + +"'Is that Rainbow?' she says. + +"'Yes'm,' I says. + +"'Help me down, please,' she says. I tries to do it, but I don't make a +good job of it. + +"'You're not a lady's groom?' she says, smilin'. + +"'No'm,' I says. + +"'I should like to pat the winner;' she says. 'May I?' + +"'Go as far as you like,' I says. + +"'I beg pardon?' she says, lookin' at me funny. + +"'Yes'm, you can pat him,' I says. + +"She takes Rainbow by the head, 'n' sort of hugs it, 'n' rubs the tips of +her fingers over his eyelids. Then she whispers to him, but I hears it. + +"'Old precious!' she says. 'I've always loved Rainbows! Do you bring a +fair day, too?' + +"Just then a black auto sneaks around the bend of the main road, 'n' Mr. +Van's drivin' it. He sees us, stops, 'n' comes up the side road to where +we are. She don't hear him till he's right close. Then she backs away +from Rainbow. + +"'I thought you might become tired of your sudden interest in hunting, +Mr. Van Voast,' she says. 'And I should like to own this horse--I was +just looking at him,' she tries to say it haughty, but it don't seem to +scare him none. He looks at her steady. + +"'If I give you a rainbow, will you give me its equivalent?' he says. + +"'A pot of gold? Yes-- How much will you take?' she says, but she don't +look at him no more. + +"'A pot of gold is at the end,' he says. 'This is the beginning, +dear. . . . I want a promise.' + +"'That would be a fair exchange, would it not?' she says, 'n' looks up at +him. I never see eyes look like that before. They puts me in mind of +when the band's playin' as the hosses go to the post fur the Kentucky +Derby. + +"'Blister,' says Mr. Van, 'show the horses the view over the hill; +they'll enjoy it.' + +"I'm on my way in a hurry, but hears her say: + +"'Oh, Billy, not here!' + +"They don't come along fur half an hour. When they does, Mr. Van says to +me: + +"'Lead Rainbow to the Livingston stables, Blister. He has a new owner.' + +"'Does you get a good price fur him?' I says, like I don't tumble to +nothin'. + +"'What a remarkable groom!' says Miss Livingston. + +"'Isn't he?' says Mr. Van. Then he comes 'n' grabs me by the mitt. +'Don't worry about the price, old boy,' he says. 'No horse ever brought +so much before!'" + + + + +SALVATION + +At the invitation of Blister Jones I had come from the city's heat to +witness the morning "work-outs". For two hours horse after horse had +shot by, leaving a golden dust-cloud to hang and drift and slowly +settle. + +It was fairly cool under the big tree by the track fence, and the click +of Blister's stop-watch, with his varied comments on what those clicks +recorded, drifted out of my consciousness much as had the dust-clouds. +Even the thr-rump, thr-rump, thr-rump of flying hoofs--crescendo, +fortissimo, diminuendo--finally became meaningless. + +"Here's one bred to suit you!" rasped a nasal voice, and I sat up, half +awake, to observe a tall man lead a thorough-bred on to the track and +dexterously "throw" a boy into the tiny saddle. + +"Why?" Blister questioned. + +"He's by Salvation," explained the tall man. "Likely-lookin' colt, +ain't he? Think he favors the old hoss any?" + +"'Bout the head he does," Blister answered. "He won't girt as big as +the old hoss did at the same age." + +"Well, if he's half as good as his daddy he's some hoss at that," the +tall man stated, as he started up the track, watch in hand. + +Blister followed the colt with his eyes. + +"Ever hear of Salvation?" he finally asked. + +"Oh, yes," I replied. + +"Well, I brings out Salvation as a three-year-old, 'n' what happens is +quite a bunch of chatter--want to hear it?" + +"You know it," I said, dropping into Blister's vernacular. + +"That's pretty good for you," he said, grinning at my slang. "Well, to +begin with, I'm in Loueyville. It's in the fall, 'n' I'm just back +from Sheepshead. One way 'n' another I've had a good year. I'm down +on two or three live ones when the odds are right, 'n' I've grabbed off +a bundle I ain't ashamed to flash in any kind of company. + +"My string's been shipped South, 'n' I thinks I'll knock around +Kentucky fur a couple of weeks, 'n' see if I can't pick up some hosses +to train. + +"One mawnin' I'm in the Gait House, lookin' fur a hossman that's +stoppin' there, 'n' I see Peewee Simpson settin' in the lobby like he'd +just bought the hotel. + +"'Who left the door open?' I says to him. + +"'It's still open, I see,' says Peewee, lookin' at me. + +"We exchanges a few more remarks, 'n' then Peewee tells me he's come to +Loueyville to buy some yearlin's fur ole man Harris. + +"'There's a dispersal sale to-morrow at the Goodloe farm,' says Peewee. +''N' I hear there's some real nice stuff going under the hammer. +General Goodloe croaked this spring. They cleaned him in a cotton deal +last year 'n' now their goin' to sell the whole works--studs, brood +mares, colts--everything; plows, too--you want a plow? All you need is +a plow 'n' a mule to put you where you belong.' + +"'Where's this farm at?' I says. + +"'Over in Franklin County,' says Peewee. 'I'm goin' over--want to go +'long?' + +"'You're on,' I says. 'I'm not particular who travels with me any +more.' + +"We gets off the train next mawnin' at a little burg called Goodloe, +'n' there's three or four niggers with three or four ratty-lookin' ole +rigs to drive hossmen out to the sale. It's a fierce drive, 'n' the +springs is busted on our rig. I thinks we'll never get there, 'n' I +begins to cuss Peewee fur bringin' me. + +"'What you got to kick at?' says Peewee. 'Ain't you gettin' a free +ride? Cheer up--think of all the nice plows you're goin' to see.' + +"'You take them plows to hell 'n' make furrows in the cinders with +'em,' I says, wonderin' if I can get a train back to Loueyville anyways +soon. + +"But when we gets to the farm I'm glad I come. Man, that was some +farm! Miles of level blue-grass pasture, with white fences cuttin' it +up into squares, barns 'n' paddocks 'n' sheds, all painted white, just +scattered around by the dozen. There's a track to work hosses on, too, +but it's pretty much growed up with weeds. The main house is back in +some big trees. It's brick 'n' has two porches, one on top of the +other, all the way around it. + +"The sale is just startin' when we get there. The auctioneer is in the +judge's stand at the track 'n' the hosses is showed in the stretch. + +"The first thing to sell is brood mares, 'n' they're as good a lot as I +ever looks over. I loses Peewee in the crowd, 'n' climbs on to a shed +roof to see better. + +"Pretty soon here comes a real ole nigger leadin' a mare that looks to +be about as old as the nigger. At that she showed class. Her head's +still fine, 'n' her legs ain't got so much as a pimple on 'em. + +"'Number eleven in your catalogues, gentlemen!' says the auctioneer. +'Mary Goodloe by Victory, first dam Dainty Maid by--what's the use of +tellin' you _her_ breedin', you _all_ know _her_! Gentlemen,' he says, +'how many of you can say you ever owned a Kentucky Derby winner? Well, +here's your chance to own one! This mare won the derby in--er-- + +"'Eighty-three, suh--I saw her do it,' says a man with a white mustache. + +"'Eighty-three, thank you, Colonel. You have a fine memory,' says the +auctioneer. 'I saw her do it, too. Now, gentlemen,' he says, 'what am +I offered for this grand old mare? She's the dam of six winners--three +of 'em stake hosses. Kindly start the bidding.' + +"'Twenty dollahs!' says the ole nigger who has hold of the mare. + +"'Fifty!' says some one else. + +"'Hole on dah,' sings out the ole nigger. 'I'se just 'bliged to tell +you folks I'se pu'chasin' dis hyar mare fo' Miss Sally Goodloe!' + +"The auctioneer looks at the guy who bids fifty. + +"'I withdraw that bid,' says the guy. + +"'Sold to you for twenty dollars, Uncle Jake,' says the auctioneer. +'Bring on number twelve!' + +"'Hyah's yo' twenty dollahs,' says the ole nigger, fishin' out a roll +of raggedy bills and passin' 'em up to the stand. + +"'Thank you, Uncle Jake. Come to the clerk for your bill of sale this +evenin',' says the auctioneer. + +"I watches the sale a while longer, 'n' then mooches into the big barn +where the yearlin's 'n' two-year-olds is waitin' to be sold. They're a +nice lot of colts, but I ain't interested in this young stuff--colts is +too much of a gamble fur me. Only about one in fifty'll make good. +Somebody else can spend their money on 'em at that kind of odds. + +"I goes out of the colt barn 'n' begins to ramble around, lampin' +things in general. I comes to a shed full of plows, 'n' I has to laugh +when I sees 'em. I'm standin' there with a grin on my face when a +nigger comes 'round the shed 'n' sees me lookin' at them plows. + +"'Fine plows, sah, an' vehy cheap,' he says. + +"'Do I look like I needs a plow?' I says to him. + +"'No, sah,' says the nigger, lookin' me over. 'I cyant rightly say you +favohs plowin', but howkum you ain' tendin' de sale?' + +"'I don't see nothin' over there that suits me,' I says. + +"The nigger is sore in a minute. + +"'You is suttanly hahd to please, white man,' he says. 'Ain' no finah +colts in Kaintucky dan dem.' + +"'That may be so, but how about Tennessee?' I says, just to get him +goin'. + +"'Tennessee! Tennessee!' he says. 'What you talkin' 'bout? Why, _we_ +does de fahm wuck wid likelier colts dan _dey_ sends to de races.' + +"'I've seed some nifty babies down there,' I says. + +"'Look-a-hyar, man!' he says, 'you want to see a colt what am a colt?' + +"'How far?' I says. + +"'No ways at all, jus' over yondah,' says the nigger. + +"'Lead me to it,' I say to him, 'n' he takes me over to a long lane +with paddocks down each side of it. All the paddocks is empty but two. +In the first one is the ole mare, Mary Goodloe; 'n' next to her is a +slashin' big chestnut colt. + +"'Cast yo' eyes on dat one!' says the nigger. + +"I don't say nothin' fur five minutes. I just looks at that colt. I +never sees one like him before, nor since. There's some dead leaves +blowin' around the paddock 'n' he's jumpin' on 'em with his front feet +like a setter pup playin'. Two jumps 'n' he's clear across the +paddock! His shoulders 'n' quarters 'n' legs is made to order. His +head 'n' throat-latch is clean as a razor, 'n' he's the proudest thing +that ever stood on four legs. He looks to be comin' three, but he's +muscled like a five-year-old. + +"'How 'bout him, boss?' says the nigger after a while. + +"'Well,' I says, 'they broke the mold when they made that one!' + +"'Dar's de mold,' he says, pointin' to the ole mare in the next +paddock. 'She's his mammy. Dat's Mahey Goodloe, named fo' ole Miss +Goodloe what's dade. Dat mare win de derby. Dis hyar colt's by +impo'ted Calabash.' + +"'When does this colt sell?' I asks him. + +"'He ain' fo' sale,' says the nigger. 'De estate doan own him. De +General done gib him to Miss Sally when de colt's bohn.' + +"'Where's she at now?' I says to the nigger. I had to own that colt if +my roll could reach him--I knowed that 'fore I'd looked at him a minute. + +"'Up to de house, mos' likely,' says the nigger. 'You'd better save +yo' shoe leather, boss. She ain' gwine to sell dat colt no matter what +happens.' + +"I beats it up to the big house, but when I gets there I see nobody's +livin' in it. The windows has boards across 'em. I looks in between +the cracks 'n' sees a whale of a room. Hangin' from the ceilin' is two +things fur lights all covered with glass dingles. They ain't nothin' +else in the room but a tall mirror, made of gold, that goes clear to +the ceilin'. I walks clean around the house, but it's sure empty, so I +oozes back to the barns 'n' collars the sales clerk. + +"'I'm a-lookin' fur Miss Goodloe,' I tells him. 'A nigger says she's +at the house, but I've just been up there 'n' they ain't even furniture +in it.' + +"'No,' says the clerk; 'the furniture was sold to a New York collector +two weeks ago. Miss Goodloe is livin' in the head trainer's house +across the road yonder. She won't have that long, I don't reckon, +though I did hear she's fixin' to buy it when the farm sells, with some +money ole Mrs. Goodloe left her.' + +"I goes over to the little house the clerk points out, 'n' knocks. A +right fat nigger woman, with her sleeves rolled up, comes to the door. + +"'What you want?' she says. + +"'I want to see Miss Goodloe,' I says. + +"'You cyant see her. She ain' seein' nobody,' says the nigger woman, +'n' starts to shut the door. + +"'Wait a minute, aunty," I says. 'I got to see her--it's business, +sure-enough business.' + +"'Doan you aunty me!' says she. 'Now, you take yo' bisniss with you +an' ramble! Bisniss has done sole off eve'y stick an' stone we got! I +doan want to hyar no mo' 'bout bisniss long as I live'--'n' bang goes +the door. + +"I waits a minute 'n' then knocks again--nothin' doin'. I knocks fur +five minutes steady. Pretty soon here she comes, but this time she's +got a big brass-handled poker with her. + +"'Ef I has to clout you ovah de haid wid dis pokah you ain' gwine to +transack no mo' bisniss fo' a tollable long time!' she says. She's mad +all right, 'n' she hollers this at me pretty loud. + +"'Fore I can say anythin' a dame steps out in the hall 'n' looks at me +'n' the nigger woman 'n' the poker. + +"'What's the matter, Liza?' she says to the nigger woman, 'n' her voice +is good to listen at. You don't care what she says, just so she keeps +a-sayin' it. She's got on a white dress with black fixin's on it, 'n' +she just suits her dress, 'cause her hair is dark 'n' her face is +white, 'n' she has great big eyes that put me in mind of--I don't know +what! She ain't very tall, but she makes me feel littler'n her when +she looks at me. She's twenty-four or five, mebby, but I'm a bum +guesser at a dame's age. + +"'Dis pusson boun' he gwine to see you an' I boun' he ain', Miss +Sally,' says the nigger woman. The little dame comes out on the porch. + +"'I am Miss Goodloe,' she says to me. 'What do you wish?' + +"'I want to buy a hoss from you, ma'am,' I says to her. + +"'The horses are being sold across the way at that biggest barn,' she +says. + +"'Yes'm,' I says, 'I've just come from there. I--' + +"'Have you been watching the sale?' she says, breakin' in. + +"'Yes'm--some,' I says. + +"'Liza, you may go to your kitchen now,' she says. 'Can you tell me if +they have sold the mare, Mary Goodloe, yet?' she says to me when the +nigger woman's gone. + +"'Yes'm, she was sold,' I says. + +"She flinches like I'd hit her 'n' I see her chin begin to quiver, but +she bites her lip 'n' I looks off down the road to give her a chance. +Pretty soon she's back fur more. I'm feelin' like a hound. + +"'Do you know who bought her?' she says. + +"'A nigger man they call Uncle Jake buys her,' I says. + +"'Uncle Jake!' she says. 'Are you sure? Was he an old man with poor +eyesight?' + +"'He was old all right,' I says. 'But I don't notice about his eyes. +He give twenty dollars fur her.' + +"'Is that all she brought?' she says. + +"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n' +tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She +stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see +eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark. + +"'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last. + +"'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile. + +"'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find +Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?' + +"'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns. . . I +finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right--he can't hardly +see. He's got rheumatism, too--he's all crippled up with it. When I +gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch. + +"'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do +you know?' + +"'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss +Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she +look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make +some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' nobody want her. Hit +look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole--he doan' know what to do zakly. +Hit's gittin' mighty 'bahassin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr. +Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be +willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer +am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de +'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's +howkum ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' _nobody_ gwine +to take her away fum you, honey!' + +"'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your twenty dollars you got +for that tobacco you raised?' + +"'Ain' I tole you 'bout dat, Miss Sally? Dat mis'able money done skip +out an' leave thoo a hole in ma pocket,' says Uncle Jake, 'n' pulls one +of his pants pockets inside out. Sure enough, there's a big hole in it. + +"'Didn't I give you a safety-pin to pin that money in your inside coat +pocket?' says Miss Goodloe. + +"'Yess'm, dat's right,' he says. 'But I'se countin' de money one day +an' a span ob mules broke loose an' stahts lickety-brindle fo' de bahn, +an' aimin' to ketch de mules, I pokes de money in de pocket wid de +hole. I ain' neber see dat no-'coun' money sence.' + +"Miss Goodloe looks at the ole nigger fur a minute. + +"'Uncle Jake . . . oh, Uncle Jake . . .' she says. '_These_ are the +things I just _can't_ stand!' Her eyes fill up, 'n' while she bites her +lip agin, it ain't no use. Two big tears roll down her cheeks. 'I'll +see you in a moment,' she says to me, 'n' goes inside. + +"'Bad times! Bad times, pow'ful bad times!' says Uncle Jake, 'n' +hobbles away a-mutterin' to hisself. + +"It's begun to get under my skin right. I'm feelin' queer, 'n' I gets +to thinkin' I'd better beat it. 'Don't be a damn fool!' I says to +myself. 'You ain't had nothin' to do with the cussed business 'n' you +can't help it none. If you don't buy this colt somebody else will.' +So I sets on the edge of the porch 'n' waits. It ain't so long till +Miss Goodloe comes out again. I gets up 'n' takes off my hat. + +"'What horse do you wish to buy?' she says. + +"'A big chestnut colt by Calabash, dam Mary Goodloe,' I says. 'They +tell me you own him.' + +"'Oh, I _can't_ sell _him_!' she says, backin' towards the door. 'No +one has ever ridden him but me.' + +"'Is he fast?' I asks her. + +"'Of course,' she says. + +"'Is he mannered?' I asks. + +"'Perfectly,' she says. + +"'He ain't never seen a barrier, I suppose?' I says. + +"'He's broken to the barrier,' she says then. + +"'Who schools him?' I says. 'You tells me nobody's been on him but +you--' + +"'I schooled him at the barrier with the other two-year-olds,' she says. + +"'Whee!' I says. 'You must be able to ride some.' + +"'I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't,' she says. + +"'Are you sure you won't sell him?' I asks her. + +"'Positive,' she says, 'n' I see she means it. + +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Don't you know it's wicked +not to give that colt a chance to show what he can do?' + +"'I know it is,' she says. 'But I have no money for training expenses.' + +"I studies a minute, 'n' all of a sudden it comes to me. 'You were +just achin' to help this little dame a while ago,' I says to myself. +'Here's a chance . . . be a sport!' The colt _might_ make good, 'n' +she could use a thousand or so awful easy. + +"'Miss Goodloe,' I says out loud, 'I might as well tell you I'm in love +with that colt.' She gives me a real sweet smile. + +"'Isn't he a darling?' she says, her face lightin' up. + +"'That isn't the way I'd put it,' I says, 'but I guess we mean the +same. Now, I'm a race-hoss trainer. You read these letters from +people I'm workin' fur, 'n' then I'll tell you what I want to do.' I +fishes out a bunch of letters from my pocket 'n' she sets down on the +steps 'n' begins to read 'em solemn as owls. + +"'Why do they call you Blister?' she asks, lookin' up from a letter. + +"'That's a nickname,' I says. + +"'Oh,' she says, 'n' goes on readin'. When she gets through she hands +the letters to me. 'They seem to have a lot of confidence in you, +Blis--Mr. Jones,' she says. + +"'Stick to Blister,' I says, ''n' I'll always come when I'm called.' + +"'Very well, Blister,' she says. 'Now, why did you wish me to read +those letters?' + +"'I asks you to read them letters, because I got a hunch that colt's a +winner, 'n' I want to take a chance on him,' I says. 'I got a string +of hosses at New Awlins--now, you let me ship that colt down there 'n' +I'll get him ready. I'll charge you seventy-five a month to be paid +out his winnings. If he don't win--no charge. Is it a go?' She don't +say nothin' fur quite a while. 'I sees a dozen hossmen I knows over at +the sale,' I says. 'If you want recommends I can get any of 'em to +come over 'n' speak to you about me.' + +"'No, I feel that you are trustworthy,' she says, 'n' goes to studyin' +some more. 'What I should like to know,' she says after while, 'is +this: Do trainers make a practise of taking horses at the same terms +you have just offered me?' + +"'Sure they do,' I lies, lookin' her in the eye. 'Any trainer'll take +a chance on a promisin' colt.' + +"'Are you certain?' she asks me, earnest. + +"'Yes'm, dead certain,' I says. She don't say nothin' fur maybe five +minutes, then she gets up 'n' looks at me steady. + +"'You may take him,' she says, 'n' walks into the house. + +"I finds Uncle Jake 'n' eases him two bucks. It sure helps his +rheumatism. He gets as spry as a two-year-old. He tells me there's a +train at nine that evenin'. I sends him to the depot to fix it so I +can take the colt to Loueyville in the express car, 'n' he says he'll +get back quick as he can. I hunts up Peewee, but he's goin' to stay +all night, 'cause the yearlin's won't sell till next day. . . . + +"The sun's goin' down when we starts fur the depot, Uncle Jake drivin', +'n' me settin' behind, leadin' the colt. The sunlight's red, 'n' when +it hits that chestnut colt he shines like copper. Say, but he was some +proud peacock! + +"I sends word to Miss Goodloe we're comin', 'n' she's waitin' at the +gate. The colt nickers when he sees her, 'n' she comes 'n' takes the +lead strap from me. Then she holds up her finger at the colt. + +"'Now, Boy-baby!' she says. 'Everything depends on you--you're all +mammy has in the world . . . will you do your best for her sake?' The +colt paws 'n' arches his neck. 'See, he says he will!' she says to me. + +"'What's his name?' I asks her. + +"'Oh, dear, he hasn't any!' she says. 'I've always called him +Boy-baby.' + +"'He can't race under that,' I says. + +"'Between now and the time he starts I'll think of a name for him,' she +says. 'Do you really believe he can win?' + +"'They tell me his dam wins twenty thousand the first year she raced,' +I says. + +"'He'd be our salvation if he did that,' she says. + +"'There's a name,' I says. 'Call him Salvation!' She says over it two +or three times. + +"'That's not a bad racing name, is it?' she asks me. + +"'No'm,' I says. 'That's a good name.' + +"'Very well, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt. 'I christen thee +_Salvation_, with this lump of sugar. That's a fine name! Always bear +it bravely.' She puts her arms around the colt's neck 'n' kisses him +on the nose. Then she hands me the lead strap 'n' steps aside. +'Good-by, and good luck!' she says. + +"When we turns the bend, way down the road, she's still standin' there +watchin' us . . . + +"I sends the colt down with a swipe, 'n' he's been at the track a week +when I gets to New Awlins. The boys have begun to talk 'bout him +already, he's such a grand looker. He don't give me no trouble at all. +He's quiet 'n' kind 'n' trustin'. Nothin' gets him excited, 'n' I +begins to be afraid he'll be a sluggard. It don't take me long to see +he won't do fur the sprints--distance is what he likes. He's got a big +swingin' gallop that sure fools me at first. He never seems to be +tryin' a lick. When he's had two months prep. I has my exercise-boy +let him down fur a full mile. Man! he _just gallops_ in _forty flat_! +Then I know I've got somethin'! + +"His first race I'm as nervous as a dame. I don't bet a dollar on him +fur fear I'll queer it. Anyway, he ain't a good price--you can't keep +him under cover, he's too flashy-lookin'. + +"Well, he comes home alone, just playin' along, the jock lookin' back +at the bunch. + +"'How much has he got left?' I says to the jock after the race. + +"'Him!' says the jock. 'Enough to beat anybody's hoss!' + +"I starts him the next week, 'n' he repeats, but it ain't till his +_third_ race that I know fur sure he's a great hoss, with a racin' +heart. + +"Sweeney has the mount, 'n' he don't get him away good--the colt's +layin' a bad seventh at the quarter. Banjo's out in front, away +off--'n' she's a real good mare. That pin-head Sweeney don't make a +move till the stretch, then he tries to come from seventh all at +once . . . 'n' by God, he does it! That colt comes from nowhere to the +Banjo mare while they're goin' an eighth! The boy on Banjo goes to the +bat, but the colt just gallops on by 'n' breezes in home. + +"'You bum!' I says to Sweeney. 'What kind of a trip do you call that? +Did you get off 'n' shoot a butsy at the stretch bend?' + +"'If I has a match I would,' says Sweeney. 'I kin smoke it easy, 'n' +then _back_ in ahead of them turtles.' + +"I know then the colt's good enough fur the stakes, 'n' I writes Miss +Goodloe to see if I can use the fourteen hundred he's won to make the +first payments. She's game as a pebble, 'n' says to stake him the +limit. So I enters him from New Awlins to Pimlico. + +"I've had all kinds of offers fur the colt, but I always tell 'em +nothin' doin'. One day a lawyer named Jack Dillon, who owns a big +stock farm near Lexington, comes to me 'n' says he wants to buy him. + +"'He ain't fur sale,' I tells him. + +"'Everything's for sale at a price,' he says. 'Now I want that colt +worse than I do five thousand. What do you say?' + +"'I ain't sayin' nothin',' I says. + +"'How does eight thousand look to you?' he says. + +"'Big,' I says. 'But you'll have to see Miss Goodloe at Goodloe, +Kentucky, if you want this colt.' + +"Oh, General Goodloe's daughter,' he says. 'Does she own him? When I +go back next week I'll drop over and see her.' + +"Well, Salvation starts in the Crescent City Derby, 'n' when he comes +under the wire Miss Goodloe's five thousand bucks better off. He wins +another stake, 'n' then I ship him with the rest of my string to +Nashville. The second night we're there, here comes Jack Dillon to the +stall with a paper bag in his hand. + +"'You didn't get the colt?' I says to him. + +"'No,' he says. 'I didn't get anything . . . I lost something.' + +"'What?' I says. + +"'Never mind what,' he says. 'Here, put this bag of sugar where I can +get at it. She told me to feed him two lumps a day.' + +"After that he comes every evenin' 'n' gives the colt sugar, but he's +poor company. He just stands lookin' at the colt. Half the time he +don't hear what I say to him. + +"The colt wins the Nashville Derby, 'n' then I ships him to Loueyville +for the Kentucky. We want him to win _that_ more'n all the rest, but +as luck goes, he ketches cold shippin', 'n' he can't start. + +"Miss Goodloe comes over to Loueyville one mawnin' to see him. She +gets through huggin' him after while, 'n' sets down in a chair by the +stall door. + +"'Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything,' she says. + +"So I tells her every move the colt makes since I has him. + +"'How did he happen to catch cold?' she asks. + +"'Constitution undermined,' I says. + +"'Oh! How dreadful!' she says. 'What caused it?' + +"'Sugar,' I says, never crackin' a smile. + +"She flushes up, 'n' I see she knows what I mean, but she don't ask no +more questions. Before she leaves, Miss Goodloe tells me she'll come +to Cincinnati if the colt's well enough to start in the Latonia Derby. + +"I ships to Cincinnati. About noon derby day I'm watchin' the swipes +workin' on the colt. He's favorite fur the Latonia 'n' there's mebby a +hundred boobs in front of the stall rubberin' at him. + +"'Please let dis lady pass,' I hears some one say, 'n' here comes Liza +helpin' Miss Goodloe through the crowd. When Liza sees me I ducks 'n' +holds up my arm like I'm dodgin' somethin'. She grins till her mouth +looks like a tombstone factory. + +"'I clean fohgot to bring dat pokah wid me,' she says. 'Hyar you is, +Miss Sally.' + +"I don't hardly know Miss Goodloe. There's nothin' like race day to +get a dame goin'. Her eyes are shinin' 'n' her cheeks are pink, 'n' +she don't look more'n sixteen. + +"'Why, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt, 'you've grown to be such a +wonderful person I can't believe it's you!' The colt knows it's race +day 'n' he don't pay much attention to her. 'Oh, Boy-baby!' says Miss +Goodloe, 'I'm afraid you've had your head turned . . . you don't even +notice your own mammy!' + +"'His head ain't turned, it's full of race,' I says to her. He'll come +down to earth after he gets that mile-'n'-a-quarter under his belt.' + +"When the bugle blows, Miss Goodloe asks me to stay in her box with her +while the derby's run. There's twenty thousand people there 'n' I +guess the whole bunch has bet on the colt, from the way it sounds when +the hosses parade past. You can't hear nothin' but '_Salva-a-tion! +Oh, you Salva-a-tion_!' + +"They get a nice break all in a line, but when they come by the stand +the first time, the colt's layin' at the rail a len'th in front, +fightin' fur his head. + +"'_Salva-a-tion_!' goes up from the stands in one big yell. + +"'_There he goes_!' hollers some swipe across the track, 'n' then +everything is quiet. + +"Miss Goodloe's got her fingers stuck into my arm till it hurts. But +that don't bother me. + +"'Isn't it wonderful?' she says, but the pink's gone out of her cheeks. +She's real pale . . . + +"They never get near the colt. . . . He comes home alone with that big +easy, swingin' gallop of his, 'n' goes under the wire still fightin' +fur his head. + +"Then that crowd goes plumb crazy! Men throws their hats away, 'n' +dances around, yellin' till they can't whisper! Miss Goodloe is +shakin' so I has to hold her up. + +"'Isn't he _grand_? How would you like to own him?' a woman in the +next box says to her. + +"'I'd love it,' says Miss Goodloe, 'n' busts out cryin'. 'You'll think +I'm an awful baby!' she says to me. + +"'I don't mind them kind of tears,' I says. + +"'Neither do I,' she says, laughin', 'n' dabbin' at her face with a +dinky little hankerchiff. + +"I wait till they lead the colt out in front of the stand, 'n' put the +floral horseshoe round his neck, then I takes Miss Goodloe down to +shake hands with the jock. + +"'How do you like him?' she says to the jock. + +"'Well, ma'am,' he says, 'I've ridden all the good ones, but he's the +best hoss I ever has under me!' + +"'What's the record fur this race?' I yells across the track to the +timer. He points down at the time hung up. + +"'That's it!' he hollers back. + +"'Didn't he do it easy?' says the jock to me. + +"There's no use to tell you what Salvation done to them Eastern hosses; +everybody knows about that. It got so the ginnies would line up in a +bunch, every time he starts, 'n' holler: '_They're off--there he +goes_!' They does it regular, 'n' pretty soon the crowds get next 'n' +then everybody does it. He begins to stale off at Pimlico, so I ships +him to Miss Goodloe, 'n' writes her to turn him out fur three or four +months. + +"It ain't a year from the time we leaves Miss Goodloe standin' in the +road till then. Salvation wins his every start. He's copped off forty +thousand bucks. I guess that's goin' some! + +"When the season closes I goes through Kentucky on my way South, 'n' I +takes a jump over from Loueyville to see the colt. Miss Goodloe's +bought a hundred acres around her little house, 'n' the colt's turned +out in a nice bluegrass field. We're standin' watchin' him, when she +puts somethin' in my pocket. I fishes it out 'n' it's a check fur five +thousand bucks. + +"'I've been paid what's comin' to me,' I says. 'Nothin' like this +goes.' + +"'Oh, yes, it does!' she says. 'I have investigated since you told me +that _story_. Trainers do _not_ pay expenses on other people's horses. +Now, put that back in your pocket or I will be mortally offended.' + +"'I don't need it,' I says. + +"'Neither do I,' she says. 'I haven't told you--guess what I've been +offered for Salvation?' + +"'I give it up,' I says. + +"'Fifty thousand dollars,' she says. 'What do you think of that?' + +"'Are you goin' to sell?' I asks her. + +"'Certainly not,' she says. + +"'He'll earn twice that in the stud,' I says. 'Who makes you the +offer--Mr. Dillon?' + +"'No, a New York man,' she says. 'I guess Mr. Dillon has lost interest +in him.' + +"I guess he hasn't,' I says. 'I seen him at Pimlico, 'n' he was worse +'n ever.' + +"'Did--did he still feed him sugar?' she says, but she don't look at me +while she's gettin' it out. + +"'You bet he did,' I says. + +"'Shall you see him again?' she asks me. + +"'Yes'm, I'll see him at New Awlins,' I says. + +"'You may tell him,' she says, her face gettin' pink, 'that as far as +my horse is concerned I haven't changed my mind.' + +"On the way back to the house I gets to thinkin'. + +"'I'm goin' round to the kitchen 'n' say hello to Aunt Liza,' I says to +Miss Goodloe. + +"Liza's glad to see me this time--mighty glad. + +"'Hyah's a nice hot fried cake fo' you, honey,' she says. + +"'This ain't no fried cake,' I says. 'This is a doughnut.' + +"'You ain' tryin' to tell _me_ what a fried cake is, is you?' she says. + +"'Aunt Liza,' I says to her while I'm eatin' the doughnut, 'I sees Mr. +Jack Dillon after he's been here, 'n' he acts like he'd had a bad time. +Did you take a poker to him, too?' + +"'No, sah,' she says. 'Miss Sally tended to his case.' + +"'It's too bad she don't like him,' I says. + +"'Who say she doan' like him?' says Liza. 'He come a sto'min' round +hyah like he gwine to pull de whole place up by de roots an' transport +hit ovah Lexington way. Fust he's boun' fo' to take dat hoss what's +done win all dem good dollahs. Den his min' flit f'om dat to Miss +Sally, an' he's aimin' to cyar her off like she was a 'lasses bar'l or +a yahd ob calico. Who is dem Dillons, anyway? De Goodloes owned big +lan' right hyar in Franklin County when de Dillons ain' nothin' but +Yankee trash back in Maine or some other outlan'ish place! Co'se we +sends him 'bout his bisniss--him an' his money! Ef he comes roun' +hyar, now we's rich again, an' sings small fo' a while. Miss Sally +mighty likely to listen to what he got to say--she so kindly dat a-way.' + +"At the depot in Goodloe that night I writes a wire to Jack Dillon. +'If you still want Salvation better come to Goodloe,' is what the wire +says. I signs it 'n' sends it 'n' takes the train fur New Awlins. + +"The colt ruptures a tendon not long after that, so he never races no +more, 'n' I ain't never been to Goodloe since." + +Blister yawned, lay back on the grass and pulled his hat over his face. + +"Is Salvation alive now?' I asked. + +"Sure he's alive!" The words come muffled from beneath the hat. "He's +at the head of Judge Dillon's stock farm over near Lexington." + +"I'm surprised Miss Goodloe sold him," I said. + +"She don't . . . sell him," Blister muttered drowsily. "Mrs. +Dillon . . . still . . . owns him." + + + + +A TIP IN TIME + +Blister was silent as we left the theater. I had chosen the play +because I had fancied it would particularly appeal to him. The name +part--a characterization of a race-horse tout--had been acceptably done +by a competent young actor. The author had hewn as close to realism as +his too clever lines would permit. There had been a wealth of +Blister's own vernacular used on the stage during the evening, and I +had rather enjoyed it all. But Blister, it was now evident, had been +disappointed. + +"You didn't like it?" I said tentatively, as I steered him toward the +blazing word "Rathskeller," a block down the street. + +"Oh, I've seed worse shows," was the unenthusiastic reply. "I can get +an earful of that kind of chatter dead easy without pryin' myself loose +from any kale," he added. + +I saw where the trouble lay. The terse expressive jargon of the race +track, its dry humor just beneath its hard surface, might delight the +unsophisticated, but not Blister. To him it lacked in novelty. + +"I ain't been in one of these here rats ketchers fur quite a while," +said Blister, as we descended the steps beneath the flambuoyant sign. +"Do you go to shows much?" he asked, when two steins were between us on +the flemish oak board. + +"Not a great deal," I replied. "I did dramatics--wrote up shows--for +two years and that rather destroyed my enjoyment of the theater." + +"I got you," said Blister. "Seein' so much of it spoils you fur it. +That's me, too. I won't cross the street to see a show when I'm on the +stage." + +Had he suddenly announced himself king of the Cannibal Islands I would +have looked and felt about as then. I gazed at him with dropping jaw. + +"No, I ain't bugs!" he grinned, as he saw my expression. "I'm on the +stage quite a while. Ain't I never told you?" + +"You certainly have not," I said emphatically. + +"I goes on the stage just because I starts to cuss a dog I owns one +day," said Blister. "It's the year they pull off one of these here +panic things, and believe me the kale just fades from view! It you +borrow a rub-rag, three ginnies come along to bring it back when you're +through. If you happens to mention you ain't got your makin's with +you, the nearest guy to you'll call the police. They wouldn't have a +hoss trained that could run a mile in nothin'. + +"A dog out on grass don't cost but two bucks a month. It seems like +the men I'm workin' fur all remembers this at once. When I'm through +followin' shippin' instructions I'm down to one mutt, 'n' I owns him +myself. He's some hoss--I don't think. He's got a splint big as a +turkey egg that keeps him ouchy in front half the time, 'n' his heart +ain't in the right place. I've filled his old hide so full of hop you +could knock his eyes off with a club, tryin' to make him cop, but he +won't come through--third is the best he'll do. + +"One day about noon I'm standin' lookin' in the stall door, watchin' +him mince over his oats. They ain't nothin' good about this dog--not +even his appetite. I ain't had a real feed myself fur three days, 'n' +when I sees this ole counterfeit mussin' over his grub I opens up on +him. + +"'Why, you last year's bird's nest!' I says to him. 'What th' hell +right have you got to be fussy with your eats? They ain't a oat in +that box but what out-classes you--they've all growed faster'n you can +run! The only thing worse'n you is a ticket on you to win. If I pulls +your shoes off 'n' has my choice between you 'n' them--I takes the +shoes. If I wouldn't be pinched fur it I gives you to the first nut +they lets out of the bughouse--you sour-bellied-mallet-headed-yellow +pup! You cross between a canary 'n' a mud-turtle!' + +"That gets me sort-a warmed up, 'n' then I begins to really tell this +dog what the sad sea waves is sayin'. When I can't think of nothin' +more to call him, I stops. + +"'Outside of that he's all right, ain't he?' says some one behind me. + +"'No,' I says, 'he has other faults besides.' + +"I turns round 'n' there's a fat guy with a cigar in his face. He's +been standin' there listenin'. He's got a chunk of ice stuck in his +chest that you have to look at through smoked glasses. He's got +another one just as big on his south hook. Take him all 'n' all he +looks like the real persimmon. + +"'Do you own him?' says the fat guy. + +"'You've had no call to insult a stranger,' I says. 'But it's on me--I +owns him.' + +"'I'm sorry you've got such a bad opinion of him,' he says. 'I was +thinkin' of buyin' him.' + +"I looks around fur this guy's keeper--they ain't nobody in sight. + +"'This ain't such a bad hoss,' I says. 'Them remarks you hears don't +mean nothin'. They're my regular pet names fur him.' + +"'I'd like to be around once when you talk to a bad one,' says the guy. +'Now look a-here,' he says. 'I'll buy this horse, but get over all +thoughts of makin' a sucker out of me. What do you want for him? If +you try to stick me up--I'm gone. The woods is full of this kind. +Let's hear from you!' + +"'Fur a hundred I throws in a halter,' I says. + +"'You've sold one,' says the guy, 'n' peels off five yellow men from a +big roll. + +"When I've got the kale safe in my clothes, I gets curious. + +"'What do you want with this hoss?' I says. + +"'He's to run on rollers in a racing scene,' he says. + +"'Well,' I says, 'some skates has rollers on 'em, maybe they'll help +this one. God knows he ain't any good with just legs!' + +"'He's plenty good enough for his act,' says the guy. 'And say, I want +another one like him, and a man to go on the road with 'em. Can you +put me wise?' + +"'How much would be crowded towards the party you want, Saturday +nights?' I says. + +"'Twenty dollars and expenses,' says he. + +"'Make it thirty,' I says. 'Travelin's hard on them that loves their +home.' + +"'We'll split it,' he says. 'Twenty-five's the word.' + +"'My time's yours,' I says. + +"'How about the other horse?' says the fat guy. + +"'You'll own him in eight minutes,' I says. 'Stay here with Edwin +Booth till I get back.' + +"I hustles down the line 'n' finds Peewee Simpson washin' out +bandages--that's what he'd come to. + +"'You still got that sorrel hound?' I says to him. + +"'Nope,' says Peewee. 'He's got me. I'm takin' in washin' to support +him.' + +"'Brace yourself fur a shock,' I says. 'I'll give you real money fur +him.' + +"Peewee looks at me fur a minute like you done a while ago. + +"'Don't wake me up!' he says. 'I must--' then he stops 'n' takes +another slant at me. 'Say!' he says, 'I'll bet you've got next! I +ain't told you yet--who put you hep?' + +"'Hep to what?' I says. + +"'Why, this hoss works a mile in forty yesterday,' says Peewee. 'I'm +goin' to cop with him next week.' + +"'Your work's coarse,' I says. 'The only way that dog goes a mile in +forty is in the baggage coach ahead. I'm in a hurry! Here's a hundred +fur the pup. Don't break a leg gettin' him out of the stall.' + +"I don't stop to answer Peewee's questions, but leads the hoss back to +the fat guy. + +"'Here's Salvini,' I says. 'He cost you a hundred.' + +"'S. R. O. for you,' says he, 'n' slips me the hundred. 'Now, take him +and Edwin Booth to the livery-stable round the corner from the Alhambra +Theater. Come to the Gilsey House at six o'clock and ask for me. My +name is Banks.' + +"'There's class to that name,' I says. 'It sure sounds good to me.' + +"'Keep on your toes like you've done so far and it'll be as good as it +sounds,' says he. + +"That evenin' Banks tells me the dogs he's bought is fur a show called +_A Blue Grass Belle_. A dame is to ride one of 'em in the show, 'n' +I'm to ride the other. + +"'I've arranged to have the apparatus set up back of the +livery-stable,' says Banks, 'so you can rehearse the horses for their +act. When they know their parts I'll bring Pixley around and you can +work the act together. She was a rube before she hit the big town and +she says she can ride.' + +"Say, this dingus fur the hosses to run on is there like a duck. The +guy that thinks it up has a grand bean! You leads a hoss on to it 'n' +when it's ready you gives him the word. He starts to walk off, nothin' +doin', he ain't goin' nowhere. You fans him with the bat. 'I'll be on +my way,' he says. But he ain't got a chance--the faster he romps the +faster the dingus rolls out from under him. He can run a forty shot, +'n' he don't go no further 'n I can throw a piano! + +"After I've worked both dogs on the dingus fur a week or so, I tells +Banks they know the game--'n' believe me, they did! Why, them ole +hounds got so they begins to prance when they see the machine. They'd +lay down 'n' ramble till they dropped if I lets 'em. They liked it +fine! + +"'I'll send Pixley around to-morrow,' says Banks. 'I want you to teach +her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse.' + +"Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little +head out the back door of the livery-stable. + +"'Hello, kid,' she says to me. + +"'Hello, girlie,' I says back. + +"'_Miss Pixley_, if you _please_,' she says. + +"'All right,' I says. ''N' while we're at it Mr. Jones'll suit me.' + +"'Fade away,' she says, 'n' I see she's got a couple of dimples. 'Mr. +Jones don't suit you.' + +"'Make it Blister, then,' I says. + +"'You're on,' she says. 'And you can stick to girlie.' + +"Say, she was a great little dame; she makes a hit with me the first +dash out of the box. When it comes to ridin' she's game as a wasp. +She has on a long coat, 'n' I don't see what's underneath. + +"'Banks tells me you ride like a jock in the show,' I says. 'You can't +cut the mustard with that rig on.' + +"'Sure not, Simple Simon!' she says. 'Do you think this grows on me?' +She sheds the coat, 'n' I see she's got on leggins 'n' a pair of puffy +pants. + +"I throws her on to Salvini 'n' he begins to prance around, me holdin' +him by the head. + +"'Whoa, you big bum!' I says to him. + +"'Quit knocking my horse,' she says. 'Let go of him and see if I care.' + +"I turns him loose 'n' she lets him jump a few times 'n' then rides him +on to the machine. I see she knows her business so I stands beside her +'n' makes her sit him like she ought. It don't take her no time to get +wise. Pretty soon she's clear over with a hand on each side of his +withers, 'n' him goin' like a stake hoss. + +"'That's the dope!' I hollers. I has to yell 'cause the ole hound is +makin' a fierce racket on the machine. + +"'I feel like a monkey on a stick,' she hollers back, but she don't +look like one. Her hair's shook loose, her eyes is shinin', 'n' them +dimples of her's is the life of the party. + +"'So long, professor,' she says to me when she's goin'. 'Much obliged +for the lesson. Our act will be a scream.' + +"Not long after that they moves the dingus over to the theater, 'n' +Banks tells me to bring the hosses over at three o'clock the next day. +I'm there to the minute, but nobody shows up 'n' I stands out in front +with the dogs fur what seems like a week. All of a sudden a tall pale +guy, who ain't got no coat on, comes bustin' out of the entrance. + +"'Where in hell and damnation have you been with these skates?' he +says. His hair is stickin' up on end 'n' he's got a wild look in his +eye. + +"'Batty as a barn,' I says to myself, 'n' gets behind Edwin Booth. + +"'Speak up!' says the pale guy. 'Before I do murder!' I looks up 'n' +down the street--not a cop in sight. + +"'I'm a gone fawn skin,' I says to myself, but I thinks I'll try to +soothe him till help comes. + +"'That's all right, pal, that's all right,' I says to him. 'These +pretty hosses are in a show. Did you ever see a show? I seen a show +once that--' + +"'My poor boy,' he says, breakin' in. 'I didn't know! What got into +Banks?' he says, sort-a to hisself. 'Try and remember,' he says to me, +'weren't you told to bring these pretty horses here at three o'clock?' + +"That puts me jerry, 'n' I sure am sore when I thinks how he gets my +goat. + +"'Why, you big stiff!' I says. 'Ain't I been standin' here with these +plugs fur a week? If you wants 'em, why don't you come 'n' tell me to +lead 'em in? Do you think I'm a mind-reader?' + +"His voice gets wild again. + +"'Lead 'em in where?' he says. 'Through the lobby? Do you want to buy +'em tickets at the box-office? Will you have orchestra chairs for 'em +or will front-row balcony do? Now beat it up that alley to the stage +entrance, you doddering idiot!' he says. 'You've held up this +rehearsal two hours!' + +"Say, I've made some fierce breaks in my time, but that was the limit. +It goes to show what a sucker anybody is at a new game. But at that, a +child would have knowed those dogs didn't go in the front way. + +"When I gets on to the stage with the hosses, there's guys 'n' dames +standin' around all over it. The chicken comes 'n' shakes my mitt. + +"'Say, kid,' she says, 'you'll hit the street for this sure. Where +_have_ you been?' + +"Before I can tell her, here comes the pale guy down the aisle. + +"'Everybody off stage!' he hollers. The bunch beats it to the sides. +'Now,' says the pale guy. 'We'll start the third act. Pixley,' he +says to the chicken, 'I'll read your lines. You explain to Daniel +Webster his cue, lines and business for your scene. Charlie, hold +those horses.' + +"The chicken starts to wise me up like he tells her. I'm a jock in the +play, 'n' I has one line to say. 'He'll win, sir, never fear,' is the +line. What another guy says to me before I says it she calls a cue, +'n' I learns that, too. I don't remember much what goes on that first +day. I gets through my stunt O. K., except what I has to say--somehow, +I can't get it off my chest louder'n a he-mouse can squeak. + +"'If any one told me a horse would win, in that tone of voice,' says +the pale guy to me, 'I'd go bet against him!' He keeps me sayin' it +over 'n' over till pretty soon you can hear me nearly three feet away. +'That'll have to do for today,' says the pale guy. 'Everybody here at +two o'clock to-morrow. I'll have the lobby swept out for your +entrance, Daniel Webster,' he says to me. + +"I tries the back door fur a change next day and they rehearse all +afternoon. I'm here to say that pale guy is some dispenser of remarks. +At plain 'n' fancy cussin' he's a bear. + +"He's got the whole bunch buffaloed, except the chicken. She hands it +back to him when it comes too strong. + +"'Pixley,' he says to her once, 'your directions call for a quick exit. +The audience will be able to stand it if you get off stage inside of +ten minutes. Try and remember you are not stalling a Johnny with a +fond farewell in this scene.' + +"'That's a real cute crack,' says the chicken. 'But you've got your +dates mixed. I can shoo a Johnny, even if he's in the profession,' she +says, lookin' at him, 'quicker than a bum stage manager can fire a +little chorus girl.' + +"The pale guy's name is De Mott. He looks at her hard fur a minute, +then he swallers the dose. + +"'Proceed with the act,' he says. + +"The show goes great the first night, far as I can see, but De Mott +ain't satisfied. + +"'It's dragging! It's dragging!' he keeps sayin' to everybody. + +"A minute before I has to walk out on the stage, leadin' Edwin Booth, I +can't think of nothin' but what I has to say. I gets one look at all +them blurry faces, 'n' I goes into a trance. + +"'More than life depends on this race!' I hears a voice say, about a +mile off. That's my cue, but all I can remember is to tell him it's a +cinch, 'n' say it loud. + +"'The dog cops sure as hell!' I hollers. + +"After the act De Mott rushes over tearin' at his collar like it's +chokin' him. + +"'Don't you even know the difference between a horse and a dog?' he +yells at me. + +"'If you sees this hound cough it up in the stretch often as I have, +you calls him a dog yourself,' I says. + +"I don't furget again after that, 'n' things go along smooth as silk +from then on. + +"The show runs along fur a week, but it don't make good. + +"'The waving corn for this outfit!' says the chicken to me, Saturday +night. 'The citizens of Peoria, Illinois, will have a chance to lamp +my art before long.' + +"She's got it doped right. We hit the road in jig-time. Banks makes a +speech before we leaves. + +"'Ladies and gentlemen,' he says, 'I thank you for your good work. Mr. +De Mott will represent me on the road. I hope you will be a happy +family, and I wish you success.' + +"Outside of the chicken, I'm not stuck on the bunch. They're as cheap +a gang as I'm ever up against. This De Mott guy is a cheese right, but +he sure thinks he's the original bell-wether. He's strong fur the +chicken, 'n' this makes the others sore at her. They don't have much +to do with me neither, 'n' she don't fall fur De Mott, so her 'n' me +sees each other a lot. + +"She's a bug over hosses 'n' the track. She wants me to tell her all +about trainin' a hoss 'n' startin' a hoss 'n' fifty other things +besides. + +"'I always lose,' she says. 'But then, I'm a rummy. Can you tell +which horse is going to win, Blister?' + +"'Sometimes,' I says. + +"'When you go back to the track will you put me wise so I can win?' she +says. + +"'You bet I will, girlie!' I says. 'Any time I cut loose a good thing +you gets the info right from the feed-box.' + +"De Mott keeps noticin' us stickin' together. He's talkin' to her once +when I'm passin' by. + +"'He's on the square,' she says pretty loud. 'And that's more than you +can say about a lot of people I know.' + +"'That big ham was trying to knock you,' she says to me afterwards. + +"We makes a bunch of towns. Nothin' very big--burgs like Erie 'n' +Grand Rapids 'n' Dayton. Finally we hits St. Louis fur a two weeks' +stand. This suits me. I'm sure tired of shippin' the dogs every few +days. + +"One night the chicken stops me as I'm takin' the pups to their kennel. + +"'Come back for me, Blister,' she says, 'when you get your horses put +up. There's a Johnny in this town that's pestering the life out of me. +He wants me to go to 'Frisco with him.' + +"When I gets back to the theater I sees a green buzz-wagon at the stage +door with a guy 'n' a shofe in it. + +"The chicken has hold of my arm comin' out of the door, but she lets go +of it 'n' then steps up straight to the buzz-wagon. + +"'I can't keep my engagement with you this evening,' she says. 'My +brother's in town and I'm going to be with him.' + +"'Bring your brother along,' says the guy, 'n' I know by that he's got +it bad. + +"'I can't very well,' she says. 'We have some family matters to talk +over. I'll see you some other evening.' + +"The very next night a bunch of scenery tumbles over. The race is +goin' on, 'n' Edwin Booth is layin' down to it right. A piece of +scenery either falls under his feet or else jims the machine, I never +knows which, anyhow, all of a sudden the hoss gets real footin'. +Bingo! We're on our way like we're shot out of a gun. We go through +all the scenery on that side 'n' Edwin Booth does a flop when he hits +the brick wall at the end of the stage. The ole hound ain't even +scratched. I ain't hurt neither. + +"The curtain rings down 'n' De Mott comes a-lopin' to where I'm gettin' +a painted grand-stand off of Edwin Booth's front legs. + +"'In heaven's name what were you trying to do?' he says. + +"'I was just practisin' one of them quick exits you're always talkin' +about,' I says. + +"'All right,' he says. 'Keep on practising till you come to that door! +Follow on down the street till you reach the river and then jump in!' + +"'I guess I'm fired--is that it?' I says. + +"'You're a good guesser,' says De Mott. + +"The chicken has come over by this time. + +"'Are you hurt, Blister?' she says. + +"'Not a bit, girlie,' I says, 'n' starts to go change my clothes. + +"'Wait till I give you an order on the box-office for your money,' says +De Mott. + +"'Well, get busy,' I says to him. 'I've stood it around where you are +about as long as is healthy.' + +"'What's that?' says the chicken to De Mott. 'You don't mean to tell +me you fired him!' + +"'I don't mean to tell you _anything_ that's none of your business,' +says De Mott. 'Go dress for the next act!' + +"'Not on your life!' she says. 'You can't fire him; it wasn't _his_ +fault! I'll write Banks a _lot_ I know about you!' + +"De Mott pulls out his watch. + +"'I'll give you just _one minute_ to start for your dressing-room,' he +says to her. + +"The chicken knocks the watch out of his hand. + +"'_That_ for your old turnip and you, too!' she says. + +"'You're fired!' yells De Mott. + +"'Oh, no, I ain't!' says the chicken. 'That's my way of breaking a +contract and a watch at the same time. You needn't write an order for +me,' she says. 'I'm overdrawn a week now.' + +"When we're leavin', after we gets our street clothes on, De Mott stops +us. + +"'There's a way you can both get back,' he says to the chicken. + +"'When I sell out,' says she, 'it'll be to a real man for real money, +not to a cheap ham-fat for a forty-dollar job.' + +"The chicken won't stay at the hotel where the bunch is that night, so +we both moves over to another. When we pays our bill I have seven +bucks left 'n' she has six. + +"'We'll decide what to do in the morning, Blister,' she says. 'I've +got a headache, so I think I'll hit the hay.' + +"She goes to her room 'n' I sets 'n' studies how this is goin' to wind +up, till three o'clock. + +"We has breakfast together the next mawnin' about noon. + +"'Well,' says the chicken, 'I've been up against it before, but this is +tougher than usual. Everybody I know is broke or badly bent.' + +"'Same here,' I says. + +"'You poor kid!' she says. 'What'll you do?' + +"'Don't worry none about me,' I says. 'I can get to New Awlins +somehow--they're racin' down there. But what about you?' + +"'If I could get back East,' she says, 'I know a floor-walker at Macy's +who'll stake me to a job till I can get placed.' + +"'You stick around here,' I says, when we're through eatin'. 'I'll go +out 'n' give the burg a lookin' over.' + +"'I've got that Johnny's phone number,' she says. 'I wonder if he'd +stand for a touch without getting too fresh?' + +"I goes to the desk 'n' wigwags the clerk. He's a fair-haired boy with +a alabaster dome. + +"'Are they runnin' poolrooms in the village?' I says. + +"'Yes, sir,' he says. 'Pool and billiard room just across the street.' + +"'Much obliged,' I says. I see the tomtit ain't got a man's size chirp +in him, so I goes outside 'n' hunts up a bull. + +"'Can you wise me up to a pony bazaar in this neck of the woods?' I +says to him. + +"'Go chase yourself,' he says. 'What do you think I am--a capper?' + +"'Be a sport,' I says. 'Come through with the info--I ain't a live +one. I'm a chalker, 'n' I'm flat. I'm lookin' fur a job.' + +"He sizes me up fur quite a while. + +"'Well,' he says at last, 'I guess if they trim you they'll earn it. +Go down two blocks, then half a block to your right and take a squint +at the saloon with the buffalo head over the bar.' + +"I finds the saloon easy enough. + +"'Make it a tall one,' I says to the barkeep. + +"While I'm lappin' up the drink, a guy walks in 'n' goes through a door +at the other end of the booze parlor. + +"'Where does that door go to?' I says to the barkeep. + +"'It's nothin' but an exit,' he says. + +"'That's right in my line,' I says. 'I'll take a chance at it.' + +"When I opens the door I hears a telegraph machine goin'. + +"'Just like mother used to make,' I says out loud, 'n' follows down a +dark hall to the poolroom. + +"I watches the New Awlins entries chalked up 'n' I sees a hoss called +Tea Kettle in the third race. Now this Tea Kettle ain't a bad pup. +He's owned by a couple of wise Ikes who never let him win till the odds +are right. Eddie Murphy has this hoss 'n' Duckfoot Johnson's swipin' +him.' + +"'I wish I knew what they're doin' with that Tea Kettle to-day,' I says +to myself, when I've looked 'em all over. + +"I've been settin' there fur quite a while when a nigger comes in. I +don't pay no attention to him at first, but I happen to see him fish a +telegram out of his pocket 'n' look at it. + +"'That ole nigger's got some dope,' I says to myself. 'I'll amble over +'n' try to kid it out of him.' + +"I mosies over to where he's settin'. He puts the wire in his pocket +when he sees me comin'. I sets down beside him 'n' goes to readin' the +paper. Pretty soon I folds up the paper 'n' looks at the board. + +"'That Tea Kettle might come through,' I says to the ole nigger. + +"'Dat ain' likely,' he says. 'He ain' won fo' a coon's aige.' + +"'I talks to his swipe not very long ago,' I says, ''n' he tells me +he's good.' + +"The ole nigger looks at me hard. + +"'Whar does you hol' dis convahsation at?' he says. + +"'Sheepshead,' I says. + +"'Does you reccomember de name ob de swipe?' says the ole nigger. + +"'Sure!' I says, 'I've knowed _him_ all my life! His name is Duckfoot +Johnson.' + +"'Yes, suh!' he says. 'Yes, suh--an' what mought yo' name be?' + +"'Blister Jones,' I says. + +"'Why, man!' he says, 'I've heard ob you frequen'ly. Ma name am +Johnson. Duckfoot is ma boy; hyars a tellegam fum him!' + +"He pulls out the wire. 'T. K. in the third,' it says. I looks up at +the board--Tea Kettle's twelve-to-one. + +"I goes out of that poolroom on the jump 'n' runs all the way to the +hotel. The chicken ain't in her room. I falls down-stairs 'n' looks +all around--nothin' doin'. All of a sudden I sees her in the telephone +booth. + +"'Gimme that six bones quick!' I says when I've got the glass door +open. She puts her hand over the phone. + +"'Here, it's in my bag,' she says. + +"I grabs the bag 'n' beats it. I gets the change out on my way back to +the poolroom. The third race is still open, 'n' I gets ten bucks +straight 'n' two to show on Tea Kettle. Then I goes over where ole man +Johnson's settin'. + +"'Whar does you go so quick like?' he says. + +"'I'm after some coin,' I says, tryin' to ketch my breath. 'I've took +a shot at the Tea Kettle hoss.' + +"'I has bet on him,' he says, 'to ma fullest reso'ses.' + +"'How much you got on?' I says. + +"'Foh dollahs,' says ole man Johnson. + +"Just then the telegraph begins to click. + +"'They're off at New Orle-e-e-ns!' sings the operator. 'King Ja-a-ames +first! Eldorado-o-o second! Anvil-l-l third!' + +"The telegraph keeps a stutterin' 'n' a stutterin'. + +"'Eldorado-o-o at the quarter a length! Anvil-l-l second a length! +King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. + +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He looks at me. + +"'Eldorado-o-o at the half by three lengths! Anvil-l-l second by two +lengths! King Ja-a-ames third!' sings the operator. + +"I looks at ole man Johnson. He don't look at me. He looks up at the +ceilin' 'n' his lips is goin' like he's prayin'. Me? I'm wipin' the +sweat off my face. + +"'Eldorado-o-o in the stretch a half a length!' sings the operator. +'Anvil-l-l second a nose! Te-e-a Kettle third and coming fast!' + +"If I gets a shock from that telegraph wire I don't jump any higher. + +"'Howdy, howdy! _He's boilin now_,' yells ole man Johnson loud enough +to bust your ear. + +"Then that cussed telegraph stops right off. + +"'Wire trouble at New Orleans,' says the operator. + +"I sure hopes I never spends no more half-hours like I does then +waitin' fur the New Awlins message. I thinks every minute ole man +Johnson's goin' to croak if it don't come soon. In about ten years the +telegraph begins to work again. + +"'The result at New Orle-e-ens!' sings the operator. 'Te-e-ea Kettle +wins by five lengths! Eldo--' + +"But ole man Johnson lets out such a whoop I don't hear who finishes +second 'n' third. + +"I hustles up to the chicken's room when I'm back to the hotel. The +transom's open when I gets to the door 'n' I hears a guy talkin'. + +"'Don't misunderstand me,' he's savin'. 'You know perfectly the +money's nothing to me, but why should I cut my own throat? If you'll +go West instead of East, everything I have is yours!' + +"'I don't misunderstand you,' says the chicken's voice. 'I have you +sized up to a dot. I've met hundreds like _you_!' + +"I knocks on the door. + +"'Come,' says the chicken, 'n' I walks in. She's standin' with the +table between her 'n' a swell-lookin' guy. + +"'Mr. Chandler,' she says. 'Let me introduce you to my brother.' + +"'How do you do?' says the swell guy. 'You have a charming sister.' + +"'She's a great kid,' I says. + +"'You don't look much alike,' says the swell guy. + +"'She's not my full sister,' I says. 'Our mothers weren't the same.' + +"The chicken coughs a couple of times. + +"'That explains it,' says the swell guy. + +"'Now,' I says to him, 'I hate to tie a can to one of sis's friend, but +she's goin' East at six o'clock, 'n' she's got to pack her duds.' + +"'Oh, Blister, _am_ I?' says the chicken. + +"'Yep, I hears from auntie,' I says, pullin' out the roll 'n' lay in' +it on the table. + +"The chicken gives a shriek, 'n' starts to hug me right in front of the +swell guy. + +"'I seem to be dee tro,' says he, 'n' backs out the door. + +"'Where did you get the money?' says the chicken, countin' the roll. +'Why! There's _over a hundred here_!' + +"I takes fifty bucks fur myself, 'n' hands her the rest. + +"'I cops it at a poolroom,' I says. 'A ten-to-one shot comes through +fur me. Now get busy. I'll send fur your trunk in ten minutes.' + +"The chicken won't hear of ridin' in a street-car, so we takes a cab +like a couple of Trust maggots. + +"'I'll buy your ticket 'n' check your trunk fur you,' I says, when we +get to the station. 'Where do you want to go? New York?' + +"'Anywhere you say,' she says. . . + +"I'm standin' there lookin' at her, lettin' this sink into my bean, 'n' +she begins to get red. + +"'Don't stand there gawking at me!' she says, stampin' her foot. 'Say +something!' + +"'How about this St. Louis guy?' I says. 'With all his--' + +"'Oh, he was only a Johnny,' she says. + +"'How about De Mott?' I says. + +"'Ugh!' she says, makin' a face. + +"I don't say nothin' after that till I has it all thought out. The +start looks awful good, but I begins to weaken when I thinks of the +finish. + +"'You act just suffocated with pleasure,' says the chicken. But I +don't pay no attention. + +"'You'll be lucky if you gets a job swipin' fur your eats when you hit +New Awlins,' I says to myself. 'Wouldn't you look immense with a doll +on your staff?' + +"'Now, listen,' I says to her, 'how long is this here panic goin' to +last?' + +"'You can search me,' she says. + +"'Well, how long is this hundred goin' to last?' I says. + +"'Not long,' she says. + +"'That's the answer,' I says. 'Now, you hop a deep sea goin' rattler +fur New York while the hoppin' 's good.' + +"'But, Blister,' she says, 'at New Orleans you could win lots of +money--think how much you've made already--and I could go to the races +every day!' + +"'Furget it,' I says. 'You think you're a wise girl. Why, you ain't +nothin' but a child! A break like I has to-day don't come but seldom. +If I cops the coin easy, like you figgers, why am I chambermaid to two +dogs in a bum show at twenty-five per? Now slip me the price of a +ticket to New York,' I says, 'or I goes 'n' buys it out of my own roll, +'n' then I ain't got enough left to get to New Awlins.' + +"She don't say nothin' more, but hands me the dough. I buys her ticket +'n' checks her trunk fur her. She keeps real quiet till her rattler's +ready. I kisses her good-by when they calls the train fur New York, +'n' still she don't say nothin'. + +"'What's on your mind, girlie?' I says. + +"'Nothing much,' she says. 'Only I'm letter perfect in the +turnin'-down act, but when it's the other way--I ain't up in my +lines.'" . . . + +Blister waved to a waiter and I saw there was to be no more. + +"Did you ever see her again?" I inquired. + +"Now you're askin' questions," said Blister. + + + + +TRES JOLIE + +The hot inky odors of a newspaper plant took me by the throat during my +progress in the whiny elevator to the third floor. + +Before attacking the day's editorial I tried to decide whether it was +the nerve flicking clash of the linotypes, the pecking chatter of the +typewriters, or the jarring rumble of the big cylinder presses that was +taking the life out of my work. I was impartial in this, but gave it +up. + +And then a letter was dropped on the desk before me, and I recognized +in the penciled address upon the envelope the unformed hand of Blister +Jones. + + +"Dear Friend," the letter began, and somehow the ache behind my eyes +died out as I read. 'I guess you are thinking me dead by this time on +account of not hearing from me sooner in answer to yours. Well, this +is to show you I am alive and kicking. I guess you have read how good +the mare is doing. She is a good mare, as good as her dam. I had some +mean luck with her at Nashville by her going lame for me, so she could +not start in the big stake, but she is O. K. now. I note what you said +about being sick. That is tough. Why don't you come to Louisville and +see the mare run in the derby. If you would only bet, I can give you a +steer that would put you right and pay all your expenses. Well, this +is all for the present. + +"Resp. + +"Blister Jones. + +"P. S. Now, be sure to come as I want you to see the mare. She is sure +a good mare." + + +I laid the letter down with a sigh. The mare referred to was the now +mighty Tres Jolie favorite for the Kentucky Derby. I had seen her once +when a two-year-old, and I remembered Blister's pride as he told me she +was to be placed in his hands by Judge Dillon. + +Yes, I would be glad to see "the mare," and I longed for the free +sunlit world of which she was a part, as for a tonic. But this was, of +course, impossible. So long as hard undiscerning materialism demanded +editorials--editorials I must furnish. + +"Damn such a pen!" I said aloud, at its first scratch. + +"Quite right!" boomed a deep voice. A big gentle hand fell on my +shoulder and spun me away from the desk. "See here," the voice went on +gruffly, "you're back too soon. We can't afford to take chances with +_you_. Get out of this. The cashier'll fix you up. Don't let me see +you around here again till--we have better pens," and he was gone +before thanks were possible. + +"I'm going to Churchill Downs to cover the derby for a Sunday special!" +I sang to the sporting editor as I passed his door. + +"The _Review of Reviews_ might use it!" followed me down the hall, and +I chuckled as I headed for the cashier's desk. + + +"Well, well, well!" was Blister's greeting. "Look who's here! I seen +your ole specs shinin' in the sun clear down the line!" + +I sniffed luxuriously. + +"It smells just the same," I said. "Horses, leather and liniment! +Where's Tres Jolie?" + +"In the second stall," said Blister, pointing. "Wait a minute--I'll +have a swipe lead her out. Chick!"--this to a boy dozing on a rickety +stool--"if your time ain't too much took up holdin' down that chair, +this gentleman 'ud like to take a pike at the derby entry." + +Like a polished red-bronze sword leaping from a black velvet scabbard +the mare came out of her stall into the sunlight, the boy clinging +wildly to the strap. She snorted, tossed her glorious head, and shot +her hind feet straight for the sky. + +"You, Jane, be a lady now!" yelled the boy, trying to stroke the +arching neck. + +"Why does he call her Jane?" I asked. + +"Stable name," Blister explained. "Don't get too close--she's right on +edge!" And after a pause, his eyes shining: "Can you beat her?" + +I shook my head, speechless. + +"Neither can _they_!" Blister's hand swept the two-mile circle of +stalls that held somewhere within their big curve--the enemy. + +The boy at the mare's head laughed joyously. + +"They ain't got a chance!" he gloated. + +"All right, Chick," said Blister. "Put her up! Hold on!" he corrected +suddenly. "Here's the boss!" And I became aware of a throbbing motor +behind me. So likewise did Tres Jolie. + +"Whoa, Jane! Whoa, darling; it's mammy!" came in liquid tones from the +motor. + +The rearing thoroughbred descended to earth with slim inquiring ears +thrown forward, and I remembered that Blister had described Mrs. +Dillon's voice as "good to listen at." + +"Look, Virginia, she knows me!" the velvet voice exclaimed. + +Another voice, rather heavy for a woman, but with a fascinating drawl +in it, answered: + +"Perhaps she fancies you have a milk bottle with you. Isn't this the +one you and Uncle Jake raised on a bottle?" + +"Yass'm, yass, Miss Vahginia, dat's her! Dat's ma Honey-bird!" came in +excited tones from an ancient negro, who alighted stiffly from the +motor and peered in our direction. As they approached, he held Mrs. +Dillon by the sleeve, and I realized that for Uncle Jake the sun would +never shine again. + +Judge Dillon, a big-boned silent man, I had met. And after the shower +of questions poured upon Blister had abated, and the mare had been +gentled, petted and given a lump of sugar with a final hug, he +presented me to his wife. + +"My cousin, Miss Goodloe," said Mrs. Dillon, and I sensed a mass of +tawny hair under the motor veil and looked into a pair of blue eyes set +wide apart beneath a broad white brow. It was no time for details. + +It developed that Miss Goodloe was from Tennessee, that she was +visiting the Dillons at Thistle Ridge near Lexington, and that she +liked a small book of verses of which I had been guilty. It further +developed that Mrs. Dillon had talked me over with an aunt of mine in +Cincinnati, that we were mutually devoted to Blister, and that he had +described me to her as "the most educated guy allowed loose." This +last I learned as Judge Dillon and Blister discussed the derby some +distance from us. + +"I feel awed and diffident in the presence of such learning," said Miss +Goodloe almost sleepily. "Why did I neglect my opportunities at Dobbs +Ferry!" + +"I would give a good deal to observe you when you felt diffident, +Virginia," said Mrs. Dillon, with a laugh like a silver bell. "Uncle +Jake!" she called, "we are going now." + +"I have heard of Uncle Jake," I said, as the old man felt his way +toward us. + +"Yes?" said Mrs. Dillon. "He insisted upon coming to _see_ the derby." +She dwelt ever so lightly upon the verb, and Uncle Jake caught it. + +"No, Miss Sally," he explained, "dat ain' 'zackly what I mean. Hit's +like dis--I just am boun' foh to hyah all de folks shout glory when ma +Honey-bird comes home!" + +"What if she ain't in front, Uncle Jake?" said Blister, helping the old +man into the motor. + +"Don't you trifle with me, boy!" replied Uncle Jake severely. + + +Derby day dawned as fair as turquoise sky and radiant sun could make +it. I had slept badly. Until late the night before I had absorbed a +haze of cigar smoke and the talk in the hotel lobby. Despite Blister's +confidence I had become panicky as I listened. There had been so much +assurance about several grave, soft-spoken horsemen who had felt that +at the weight the favorite could not win. + +"Nevah foh a moment, suh," one elderly well-preserved Kentuckian had +said, "will I deny the Dillon mare the right to be the public's choice. +But she has nevah met such a field of hosses as this, suh--and she +lacks the bone to carry top weight against them." + +There had been many nods of approval at this statement, and I had gone +to the Dillon party for consolation. But when I reached their +apartments I had found the judge more silent than ever, and Mrs. Dillon +as nervous as myself. Only Miss Goodloe appeared as usual. Her drawl +was soothingly indolent. She seemed entirely oblivious of any +tenseness in the atmosphere, and I caught myself wondering what was +behind those lazy-lidded blue eyes. + +Back in the lobby once more I had found it worse than ever--so many +were against the favorite. I had about decided that our hopes were +doomed, when a call boy summoned me to the desk with the statement, +"Gentleman to see you, sir." + +There I had found Blister and I fairly hugged him as he explained that +he had dropped in on the way to his "joint," as he called his hotel. + +"Listenin' to the knockers?" he asked, reading me at once. "Furget +it--them ole mint juleps is dead 'n' buried. You'll go dippy if you +fall fur that stuff." + +"But the weight!" I gasped. + +"Say, they've got you goin' right, ain't they?" Blister exclaimed. +"Now listen! _She can carry the grand-stand 'n' come home on the bit_! +Get that fixed in your nut, 'n' then hit the hay." + +"Thanks, I believe I shall," I said, and I had followed his advice, +though it was long until sleep came to me. + +But now as the blue-gray housetops of Louisville sparkled with tiny +points of light, and the window-panes swam with pink-gold flame, I +looked out over the still sleeping city and laughed aloud at my fears +of the night before. + +"A perfect day," I thought. "The favorite will surely win, and Blister +and Uncle Jake and Mrs. Dillon will be made perfectly happy. A +beautiful day, and a fitting one in which to fix the name of Tres Jolie +among the equine stars!" + +"We read some of your poetry last night after you had gone," said Mrs. +Dillon, as we waited for the motor to take us to Churchill Downs. "I +liked it, and I don't care for verse as a rule, except Omar. I dote on +_The Rubaiyat_; don't you?" + +"Yes, indeed," I replied. "I can't quite swallow his philosophy, but +he puts it all so charmingly. Some of his pictures are most alluring." + +"Do learned persons ever long for the _wilderness_, and the _bough_, +and--the other things?" Miss Goodloe asked innocently. + +"Quite frequently," I assured her. + +She affected a sigh of relief. + +"That's such a help," she said. "It makes them seem more like the rest +of us." + +A huge motor-car wheeled from the line at the curb and glided past us. +A man in the tonneau lifted his hat high above his head as he saw Judge +Dillon. + +"Oh, you Tres Jolie!" he called with a smile. "The best luck in the +world to you, Judge!" It was an excessively rich New Yorker, who owned +one of the horses about to run in the derby. + +"Oh, you Rob Roy!" called back Judge Dillon, also raising his hat. +"The same to you, Henry!" And suddenly there was a tug at my nerves, +for I realized that this was the _salut de combat_. + +But Uncle Jake, his faith in his "Honey-bird" unshaken as the time drew +near, rode in placid contentment on the front seat as we sped to the +track. We passed, or were passed by, many motor-cars from which came +joyous good wishes as the Dillons were recognized. Each packed and +groaning street-car held some one who knew our party, and "Oh, you Tres +Jolie!" they howled as we swept by. The old negro's ears drank all +this in. It was as wine to his spirit. He hummed a soft minor +accompaniment to the purring motor, and leaning forward I caught these +words: + + "Curry a mule an' curry a hoss, + Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!" + + +"Luck to her, Judge!" called the man at the gates, as he waved us +through. "Ah've bet my clothes on her!" + +"You'll need a barrel to get home in!" yelled a voice from a buggy. +"The Rob Roy hoss'll beat her and make her like it!" + +"You-all are from the East, Ah reckon," we heard the gateman reply. +"Ah've just got twenty left that says we raise 'em gamer in Kentucky +than up your way!" + +At the stables we found Blister. + +"How is she?" asked Judge Dillon. + +"She's ready," was the answer. "It's all over, but hangin' the posies +on her." + +"Lemme feel dis mayah," said Uncle Jake, and Mrs. Dillon guided him +into the stall. + +"I'd like to give her one little nip before she goes to the post, +Judge," I heard Blister say in a low voice. + +"Not a drop," came the quick reply. "If she can't win on her own +courage, she'll have to lose." + +"Judge Dillon won't stand fur hop--he won't even let you slip a slug of +booze into a hoss," Blister had once told me. I had not altogether +understood this at the time, but now I looked at the big quiet man with +his splendid sportsmanship, and loved him for it. + +A roar came from the grand-stand across the center-field. + +"They're off in the first race," said Blister. "Put the saddle on her, +boys;" and when this was accomplished: "Bring her out--it's time to +warm up." + +I had witnessed Tres Jolie come forth once before and I drew well back, +but it was Mrs. Dillon who led the thoroughbred from the stall. She +was breathing wonderful words. Her voice was like the cooing of a +dove. Tres Jolie appeared to listen. + +"She don't handle like that fur us, does she, Chick?" said Blister. + +"Nope," said the boy addressed. "I guess she's hypnotized." + +"How do you do it?" I inquired of Mrs. Dillon as she led the mare to +the track, the rest of us following. + +"She's my precious lamb, and I'm her own mammy," was the lucid +explanation. + +"Now you know," said Blister to me. "Pete!" he called to a boy, +approaching, "I want this mare galloped a slow mile. Breeze her the +last eighth. Don't take hold of her any harder'n you have to. Try 'n' +_talk_ her back." + +"I got you," said the boy, as Blister threw him up. Mrs. Dillon let go +of the bridle. Tres Jolie stood straight on her hind legs, made three +tremendous bounds, and was gone. We could see the boy fighting to get +her under control, as she sped like a bullet down the track. + +"I guess Pete ain't usin' the right langwige," said the boy called +Chick, with a wide grin. + +"Maybe she ain't listenin' good," added another boy. + +"Cut out the joshin' 'n' get her blankets ready," said Blister with a +frown. + +"I think we'd better start," suggested Judge Dillon. + +"Aren't you terribly excited?" I asked Miss Goodloe curiously, as she +walked cool and composed by my side. My own heart was pounding. + +"Of course," she drawled. + +"This girl is made of stone," I thought. + +The band was playing _Dixie_ as we climbed the steps of the +grand-stand, and the thousands cheered until it was repeated. Hands +were thrust at the Dillons from every side, and until we found our box, +continued shouts of, "Oh, you Tres Jolie!" rose above the crash of the +band. + +I had witnessed many races in the past and been a part of many racing +crowds but never one like this. These people were Kentuckians. The +thoroughbred was part of their lives and their traditions. Through him +many made their bread. Over the fairest of all their fair acres he +ran, and save for their wives and children they loved him best of all. + +Once each year for many years they had come from all parts of the +smiling bluegrass country to watch this struggle between the +satin-coated lords of speed that determined which was king. This +journey was like a pilgrimage, and worship was in their shining eyes, +as tier on tier I scanned their eager faces. + +And now three things happened. A bugle called, and called again. The +crowd grew deathly still. And Mrs. Dillon, in a voice that reminded me +of a frightened child, asked: + +"Where is Blister?" + +"He'll be here," said Judge Dillon, patting her hand. And even as a +megaphone bellowed: "_We are now ready for the thirty-ninth renewal of +the Kentucky Derby_!" Blister squeezed through the crowd to the door of +the box. + +He was a rock upon which we immediately leaned. + +"Everything all right?" I asked. + +"Fine as silk," he said cheerfully, dropping into a seat. "You'll see +a race hoss run to-day! Here they come! She's in front!" And held to +a proud sedateness by their tiny riders, the contenders in the derby +filed through the paddock-gate. + +At the head of these leashed falcons was a haughty, burnished, +slender-legged beauty--the proudest of them all. Her neck was curving +to the bit and she seemed to acknowledge with a gracious bow the roar +of acclamation that greeted her. She bore the number 1 upon her satin +side, and dropping my eyes to my program I read: + +1. Tres Jolie--b. m. by Hamilton--dam Alberta. John C. Dillon, +Lexington, Kentucky. (Manders--blue and gold.) + +"What sort of jockey is Manders?" I asked Blister. + +"Good heady boy," was the reply. + +"Virginia, oh, Virginia, isn't she a lamb?" gasped Mrs. Dillon. + +"She's a stuck-up miss," said Miss Goodloe in an even tone, and I +almost hated her. + +Number 2 I failed to see as they paraded past. + +Number 3 was a gorgeous black, with eyes of fire, powerful in neck and +shoulders, and with a long driving hip. He was handsome as the devil +and awe-inspiring. Applause from the stands likewise greeted him, +though it was feeble to the howl that had met the favorite. + +"There's the one we've got to beat," Blister stated. + +"Good horse," said Judge Dillon quietly. + +3. Rob Roy--bl. s. by Tempus Fugit--dam Marigold. Henry L. Whitley, +New York City. (Dawson--green and white.) + +I read. I followed him with my eyes and wished him somewhere else. He +looked so overpowering--he and the millions behind him. . . . + +At last, a quarter of a mile away, they halted in a gorgeous shifting +group. And the taut elastic webbing of the barrier that was to hold +them from their flight a little longer, was stretched before them. + +They surged against it like a parti-colored wave, and then receding, +surged again, but always the narrow webbing held them back. I found +the blue and gold. It was almost without motion--it did not shift and +whirl with the rest. + +"Ain't she the grand actor?" said Blister with delight. "The best +mannered thing at the barrier ever I saw." + +Then for a moment I lost the colors that had held my gaze. They were +blotted out and crowded back by other colors. In that instant the wave +conquered. It grew larger and larger. It was coming like the wind. +But where was the blue and gold? + +I was answered by a heaven-cleaving shout that changed in the same +breath to a despairing groan. It was as though a giant had been +stricken deep while roaring forth his battle-cry. The thousands had +seen what I had missed--their hopes in an instant were gone. In the +stillness that followed, a harsh whisper reached me. + +"_She's left_! _She's left_!" Then an uncanny laugh. The rock had +broken. + +The wave was greeted by silence. A red bay thundered in the lead. +Then came a demon, hard held, with open mouth, and number 3 shone from +his raven side. Followed a flying squadron all packed together, their +hoofs rolling like drums. And then came aching lengths, and my eyes +filled with tears and something gripped my heart and squeezed it as +Tres Jolie, skimming like an eager swallow, fled past undaunted by that +hopeless gap. + +"Whar my baby at?" asked Uncle Jake. He had heard the groan and the +silence, and fear was in his voice. + +"Oh--Uncle Jake--" began Mrs. Dillon. "They--" her voice broke. + +"Dey ain' left her at de post? Doan' tell me dat, Miss Sally!" + +Mrs. Dillon nodded as though to eyes that saw. Uncle Jake seemed to +feel it. + +"How fah back? How fah back?" he demanded. + +"She ain't got a chance, Uncle Jake!" said Blister, and dropped his +head on his arm lying along the railing. + +"How fah back?" insisted the old negro. + +Blister raised his head and gazed. + +"Twenty len'ths," he said, and dropped it again. + +"Doan' you fret, Miss Sally," Uncle Jake encouraged. "She'll beat 'em +yet!" + +"Not this time, old man," said Judge Dillon very gently. He was +tearing his program carefully into little pieces, with big shaking +hands. . . . + +The horses were around the first turn, and the battle up the back +stretch had begun. The red bay was still leading. + +"Mandarin in front!" said some one behind us. "Rob Roy second and +running easy--the rest nowhere!" + +"Jes' you wait!" called Uncle Jake. + +"You ole fool nigger!" came Blister's muffled voice. + +Even at that distance I could have told which one was last. The same +effortless floating stride I had noticed long ago was hers as Tres +Jolie, foot by foot, ate up the gap. At the far turn she caught the +stragglers and one by one she cut them down. + +"Oh, gallant spirit!" I thought. "If they had given you but half a +chance!" + +I lost her among a melee of horses, on the turn, as the leader swung +into the stretch. It was the same red bay, but now the boy on the +black horse moved his hands forward a little and his mount came easily +to the leader's side. There was a short struggle between them and the +bay fell back. + +"Mandarin's done!" cried the voice behind us. "Rob Roy on the bit!" + +"I might have known it!" I thought bitterly. "He looked it all along." + +Then a gentle buzzing sprang up like a breeze. It was a whisper that +grew to a muttering, and then became a rumble and at last one delirious +roar. The giant had recovered, and his mighty cry brought me to my +feet, my heart in my throat--for "_Tres Jolie_" he roared . . . and +coming! . . . coming!! . . . coming!!! . . . I saw the blue and gold! + +A maniac rose among us and flung his fists above his head. He called +upon his gods--and then that magic name--"_Tres Jolie_," he shrieked: +"_Oh, Baby Doll_!" It was Blister--and I marveled. + +[Illustration: "Tres Jolie!" he shrieked.] + +I had seen him stand and lose his all without a sign of feeling. But +now he raved and cursed and prayed and plead with his "Girlie!"--his +"Baby Doll!", and with the last atom of her strength his sweetheart +answered the call. + +She reached, heaven alone knows how, the flank of the flying black, and +inch by inch she crept along that flank until they struggled head to +head. + +"Oh, you black dog!" howled Blister, wild triumph in his voice. +"You've got to beat a race hoss _now_!" + +As though he heard, the black horse flattened to his work. Almost to +the end he held her there, eye meeting eye. The task was just beyond +him. Even as they shot under the wire, he faltered. But it was very +close, and the shrieking hysterical grand-stand grew still and waited. + +I glanced at Blister. He was leaning forward, almost crouching, his +face ashen, his eyes on the number board. + +Then slowly the numbers swung into view, and "_1, 3, 7,_" I read. + +There was a roar like the falling of ten thousand forest trees. These +words flashed through my mind. "We'll know about _her_ when she goes +the route, carryin' weight against class." . . . . Yes, we knew about +_her_--now! + +I saw Mrs. Dillon's lips move at Uncle Jake's ear. He raised his +sightless eyes to the sky, his head nodding. It was as though he +visioned paradise and found it good indeed. + +I saw Blister's face turn from gray to red, from red to purple. The +tenseness went out of his body, and suddenly he was gone, fighting his +way through the crowd toward the steps. + +I saw Judge Dillon's big arm gather in his trembling wife, and he held +her close while the heavens rocked. + +These things I saw through a blur, and then I felt Miss Goodloe sway at +my side. She clutched at the railing, missed it and sank slowly into +her seat. I but glimpsed a white face in which the eyes had changed +from blue to violet, when it was covered by two slender gloved hands. + +"Are you ill?" I called, as I bent above her. + +She shook her head. + +"It was too much," I barely heard. + +I stood bewildered, and then my stupid mind cast out a soulless image +that it held and fixed the true one there. + +"I rarely make this kind of a fool of myself," she said at last. + +"That I can quite believe," I replied, smiling down at her. She +returned the smile with one that held a fine good comradeship, and we +seemed to have known each other long. . . . + + +A crowd had packed themselves before the stall. As we reached it +Blister appeared in the doorway. + +"Get back! Get back!" he ordered, and pointing to the panting mare: +"Don't you think she's earned a right to breath?" + +The crowd fell away, except one rather shabby little old man. + +"No one living," said he, "appreciates what she has done moh than +myself, suh, but I desiah to lay ma hand on a real race mayah once moh +befoh I die!" + +Blister's face softened. + +"Come on in, Mr. Sanford," he invited. "Why _you_ win the derby once, +didn't you?" + +"Thank you, suh. Yes, suh, many yeahs ago," said the little old man, +and removing his battered hat he entered the stall, his white head bare. + +Mrs. Dillon's face as she, too, entered the stall was tear-wet and +alight with a great tenderness. + +A boy dodged his way to where we stood. His face and the front of his +blue and gold jacket were encrusted with dirt. + +"You shoe-maker!" was Blister's scornful greeting. + +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't my fault, Judge," the boy piped, sniffling. +"Honest to Gawd it wasn't! That sour-headed bay stud of Henderson's +swung his ugly butt under the mare's nose, 'n' just as I'm takin' back +so the dog won't kick a leg off her, that mutt of a starter lets 'em +go!" + +"All right, sonny," said the judge. "You rode a nice race when you did +get away." + +"Much obliged, sir. I just wanted to tell you," said the boy, and he +disappeared in the crowd as Judge Dillon joined those in the stall. + +I stayed outside watching the group about Tres Jolie, and never had my +heart gone out to people more. Deeply I wished to keep them in my +life. . . I wondered if we would ever meet again. But pshaw!--I was +nothing to them. Well, I would go back to Cincinnati when they left in +the morning. . . . + +"Can't we have you for a week at Thistle Ridge?" Mrs. Dillon stood +looking up at me. + +"Why, that's very kind--" I stammered. + +"The north pasture is a _wilderness_ this year, the _loaf of bread, the +jug of wine_ and the _bough_ are waiting. You can, of course, furnish +your own _verses_." + +"The picture is almost perfect," I said, and glanced at Miss Goodloe. + +"Virginia, dear--" prompted Mrs. Dillon. + +"As a _thou_--I always strive to please," drawled that blue-eyed young +person. Oh, that I had been warned by her words! + +Our purring flight to Louisville, when the day was done, became a +triumph that mocked the dead Caesars. Of this the old negro on the +front seat missed little. He was singing, softly singing. And leaning +forward I listened. + + "Curry a mule an' curry a hoss, + Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!" + +sang Uncle Jake. + + + + +OLE MAN SANFORD + +"Do you happen to notice a old duck that comes to the stalls at +Loueyville just after the derby?" asked Blister. + +"Was his name Sanford, and did he wish to pat the mare?" I asked in +turn. + +"That's him," said Blister. "Ole man Sanford. It ain't likely you +ever heard of him, but everybody on the track knows him, if they ever +hit the Loueyville meetin'. They never charge him nothin' to get into +the gates. He ain't a owner no more, but way back there before I'm +alive he wins the Kentucky Derby with Sweet Alice, 'n' from what I +hears she was a grand mare. Ole man Sanford breeds Sweet Alice +hisself. In them days he's got a big place not far from Loueyville. +They tell me his folks get the land original from the govament, when +it's nothin' but timber. I hears once, but it don't hardly sound +reasonable, that they hands over a half a million acres to the first +ole man Sanford, who was a grandaddy of this ole man Sanford. If +that's so, Uncle Sam was more of a sport in them days than since. + +"I don't know how they pry it all loose from him, but one mawnin' ole +man Sanford wakes up clean as a whistle. They've copped the whole +works--he ain't got nothin'. So he goes to keepin' books fur a whisky +house in Loueyville, 'n' he holds the job down steady fur twenty years. +The only time he quits pen-pushin' is when they race at Churchill +Downs. From the first minute the meetin' opens till get-away day comes +he's bright eyes at the rat hole. He don't add up no figgers fur +nobody then. He just putters around the track. He's doped out as +sort-a harmless by the bunch. + +"After the Tres Jolie mare wins the derby fur me, ole man Sanford makes +my stalls his hang-out. I ain't kickin', all he wants to do is to look +at the mare 'n' chew the rag about her. That satisfies him completely. + +"'Of all the hosses, suh, who have been a glory to our state,' he says, +'but one otheh had as game a heart as this superb creature. I refer to +Sweet Alice, suh--a race mayah of such quality that the world marveled. +Not in a boastful manner, suh, but with propah humility, let me say +that I had the honor to breed and raise Sweet Alice, and that she bore +my colors when she won the tenth renewal of our great classic.' + +"He tells this to everybody that comes past the stalls, 'n' it ain't +long till he begins to bring people around to look the mare over. From +that he gets to watchin' how the swipes take care of her. Pretty soon +he begins to call 'em if things ain't done to suit him. + +"'Boy,' he'll say, 'that bandage is tighter than I like to see it. +Always allow the tendon a little play--do not impaieh the suhculation.' + +"The boys eat this stuff up--it tickles 'em. They treat him respectful +'n' do what he tells 'em. + +"'Everything O. K. to-day, sir?' they'll say. + +"Ole man Sanford don't tumble they're kiddin' him. + +"'Ah have nothing to complain of,' he says. + +"It ain't long till he's overseein' my whole string of hosses, just +like he owns 'em. Man, he sure does enjoy hisself! He won't trade +places with August Belmont. + +"I'm gettin' Trampfast ready fur a nice little killin'. He's finished +away back in two starts, but he runs both races without a pill. This +hoss is a dope. He's been on it fur two seasons. He won't beat +nothin' without his hop. But when he gets just the right mixture under +his hide he figgers he can beat any kind of a hoss, 'n' he's about +right at that. He furgets all about his weak heart with the nutty +stuff in him. He thinks he's a ragin' lion. He can't wait to go out +there 'n' eat up them kittens that's goin' to start against him. + +"One mawnin' my boy Pete takes the Trampfast hoss out fur a trial. + +"'If he'll go six furlongs in about fourteen,' I says to Pete, 'he's +right. If he tries to loaf on you, shake him up; but if he's doin' his +work nice, let him suit hisself 'n' keep the bat off him. I want to +see what he'll do on his own.' + +"'I think he'll perform to-day,' says Pete. 'He's felt real good to me +fur the last week.' + +"Ole man Sanford's standin' there listenin'. When the work-out starts +he ketches the time with a big gold stop-clock that he fishes out of +his shiny ole vest. The clock's old, too--it winds with a key--but at +that she's a peach! + +"'That's a fine clock,' I says to him. He don't take his eyes off the +hoss comin' round the bend. + +"'He's running with freedom and well within himself,' he says. 'That +quatah was in twenty-foh flat! Yes, suh, this watch was presented to +me by membahs of the Breedah's Association to commemorate the victory +of Sweet Alice in the tenth renewal of our classic. You have heard me +speak of Sweet Alice?' + +"'Yes, you told me about her, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'That's sure some +clock.' + +"'If he does not faltah in the stretch, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'I +will presently show you the one minute and fohteen seconds you desiah +upon its face.' + +"The ole man's a good judge of pace,--Trampfast comes home bang in the +fourteen notch. + +"When Pete gets down at the stalls, ole man Sanford walks up to him. + +"'Hyah is a dollah foh you, boy,' he says, 'n' hands Pete a buck. +'That was a well-rated trial.' + +"Pete looks at the silver buck 'n' then at ole man Sanford 'n' then at +me. + +"'What the hell--' he says. + +"'You rough neck!' I says to Pete. Don't you know how to act when a +gentleman slips you somethin'?' + +"'But look a-here,' says Pete. 'He ain't got--' I gives Pete a poke +in the slats. 'Much obliged, sir,' he says, 'n' puts the bone in his +pocket. + +"'You are entirely welcome, mah boy,' says ole man Sanford, wavin' his +hand. + +"'Say,' Pete says to me, 'I think this hoss'll cop without shot in the +arm. He's awful good!' + +"'Not fur mine,' I says. 'He can run fur Sweeney when he ain't got no +hop in him. Just let some sassy hoss look him in the eye fur two jumps +'n' he'll holler, "Please, mister, don't!" Yea, bo',' I says, 'I know +this pup too well. When he's carryin' my kale he'll be shoutin' +hallelooyah with a big joy pill under his belt.' + +"I furgets all about ole man Sanford bein' there. You don't talk about +hoppin' one with strangers listening but he's around so much I never +thinks. All of a sudden he's standin' in front of me lookin' like +there's somethin' hurtin' him. + +"'What's the matter, Mr. Sanford?' I says. + +"'I gathah from yoh convahsation,' says he, 'that it is yoh practise to +supplement the fine courage that God has given the thoroughbred with +vile stimulants. Am I correct in this supposition, suh?' + +"'Why, yes--' I says, kind-a took back. 'When they need it I sure +gives it to 'em.' + +"Ole man Sanford draws hisself up 'n' looks at me like I'm a toad. + +"'Suh,' he says, 'the man who does that degrades himself and the +helpless creature that Providence has placed in his keeping! Not only +that, suh, but he insults the name of the thoroughbred and all it +stands for, still tendahly cherished by some of us. Ah have heard of +this abhorant practise that has come as a part of this mercenary age, +and, suh, Ah abominate both it and the man who would be guilty of such +an act!' + +"'Why, look-a here, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'They're all doin' it. If +you're goin' to train hosses you've got to get in the band wagon. If +_you_ can't give the owner a run fur his money he'll find somebody to +train 'em who can!' + +"'Do you mean to tell me, suh, the wonderful courage displayed by that +mayah when the time came, was false?' says ole man Sanford, pointin' at +Tres Jolie's stall. 'Ah saw strong men, the backbone of this state, +suh,' he says, 'watch that mayah come home with tears in their eyes. +Were their natures moved to the depths by an insulting counterfeit of +greatness?' + +"'Why, sure not!' I says. 'But all hosses ain't like this mare.' + +"'They are not, suh!' says ole man Sanford. 'Noh were they intended to +be! But few of us are ordained foh the heights. However,' he says, +puttin' his hand on my shoulder, 'Ah should not censure you too +strongly, young man. In fohcing yoh hawsses to simulate qualities they +do not possess, you are only a part of yoh times. This is the day of +imitation--I find it between the covahs of yoh books--I hear it in the +music yoh applaud--I see it riding by in motah-cars. Imitation--all +imitation!' + +"I ain't hep to this line of chatter--it's by me. But I dopes it out +he's sore at automobiles, + +"'What's wrong with 'em?' I says to him. + +"'Ah don't feel qualified to answer yoh question, suh,' he says. 'Ah +believe the blind pursuit and worship of riches is almost entirely +responsible. It has bred a shallowness and superficiality in and +towahds the finah things of life. But the historian will answer yoh +question at a later day. He can bring a calmness to the task which is +impossible to one surrounded and bewildered by it all.' + +"I ain't any wiser'n I was, but I don't say nothin'. The old man acts +like he's studyin' about somethin'. + +"'Who owns the hawss that just trialed three-quahtahs in fohteen?' he +says, after while. + +"'Jim Sigsbee up at Cynthiana,' I says. + +"'Is Mr. Sigsbee awaheh of the--method you pursue with regahd to +falsely stimulating his hawss?' says ole man Sanford. + +"'Well, I guess yes!' I says. 'Jim won't bet a dollar on him unless +he's got the hop in him.' + +"'Ah shall write to him,' says ole man Sanford, 'n' beats it down the +track toward the gates. + +"I don't see him fur over a week. I figger he's sore at me fur dopin' +hosses. It's a funny thing but, I'm a son-of-a-gun if I don't miss the +ole duck. From the way they talk I see the boys kind-a miss him, too. + +"'I wonder where ole Pierpont's at?' I hears Chick say to Skinny. +'Gone East to see one of his hosses prepped fur the Brooklyn, I guess.' + +"'Naw,' says Skinny; 'you got that wrong. He's goin' to send a stable +to Urope, 'n' Todd Sloan's tryin' to get a contrac' from him as +exercise-boy. Ole Pierpont's watchin' Todd work out a few so he kin +size up his style.' + +"I've wrote Jim Sigsbee Trampfast's ready, but I don't enter the hoss +'cause I know Jim wants to come over 'n' bet a piece of money on him. +I don't hear from Jim, 'n' I wonder why. + +"One day I'm settin' in front of the stalls 'n' here comes ole man +Sanford down the line. + +"'Why, hello, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'We sort-a figgered you'd quit us. +Things ain't gone right since you left. The boys need you to keep 'em +on their toes.' + +"'Ah have not deserted you intentionally, suh,' he says. 'Since Ah saw +you last an old friend of mine has passed to his rewahd. The Hono'able +James Tullfohd Fawcett is no moh, suh--a gallant gentleman has left us.' + +"'That's too bad,' I says. 'Did he leave a family?' + +"'He did not, suh,' says ole man Sanford. 'Ah fell heir to his entiah +estate, only excepting the silvah mug presented to his beloved mothah +at his birth by Andrew Jackson himself, suh. This he bequeathed to the +public, and it will soon be displayed at the rooms of the Historical +Society named in his last will and testament.' + +"'Did you get much out of it?" I says. + +"'He had already endowed me with a friendship beyond price, suh,' he +says. 'His estate was not a large one as such things go--some twelve +hundred dollahs, I believe.' + +"'That's better'n breakin' a leg,' I says. + +"'You will, perhaps, be interested to learn,' he says, 'that Ah have +pu'chased the hawss Trampfast with a po'tion of the money. Hyah is a +lettah foh you from Mr. Sigsbee relative to the mattah.' He hands me a +letter, but I can't hardly read it--his buyin' this hop-head gets my +goat. + +"'What you goin' to do with him?' I says. 'Race him?' + +"'That is ma intention, suh,' he says. 'Ah expect to keep him in yoh +hands. But, of co'se, suh, the hawss will race on his merits and +without any sawt of stimulant.' + +"I ain't stuck on the proposition. The Trampfast hoss can't beat a +cook stove without the hop. I hate to see the ole man burn up his +dough on a dead one. + +"'Now, Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'times has changed since you raced. If +you'll let me handle this hoss to suit myself I think I can make a +piece of money fur you. The game ain't like it was once, 'n' if you +try to pull the stuff that got by thirty years ago, they'll trim you +right down to the suspenders. They ain't nothin' crooked about +slippin' the hop into a hoss that needs it.' + +"'As neahly as I can follow yoh fohm of speech,' says ole man Sanford, +'you intend to convey the impression that the practise of stimulating a +hawss has become entirely propah. Am I correct, suh?' + +"'That's it,' I says. ''N' you can gamble I'm right.' + +"'Is the practise allowed under present day racing rules?' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' I think I've got him goin'. + +"'Why, sure not,' I says. 'But how long would a guy last if he never +broke a racin' rule?' + +"'Out of yoh own mouth is yoh augument condemned, suh,' says ole man +Sanford. 'Even in this day and generation the rules fohbid it--and let +me say, suh, that should a trainah, a jockey, or any one connected with +a stable of mine, be guilty of wilfully violating a racing rule, Ah +would discharge him at once, suh!' + +"'_You goin' to race on the level all the time_?' I says. + +"'If by that expression you mean hono'ably and as a gentleman--yes, +suh!' + +"'_Good night, nurse_!' I says. 'You'll go broke quick at that game!' + +"'Allow me to remind you that that is ma own affaih, suh,' says ole man +Sanford, 'n' the argument's over. His ideas date back so far they're +mildewed, but I see I can't change 'em. He don't belong around a race +track no more'n your grandmother! + +"'All right, Mr. Sanford!' I says. 'You're the doctor! We'll handle +him just like you say.' + +"Peewee Simpson has come over to chew the rag with me, 'n' he hears +most of this talk. + +"'Wait till I call the boys,' he says, when ole man Sanford goes in to +look at the hoss. + +"'What fur?' I says. + +"'Family prayers,' says Peewee. + +"I throws a scraper at him, 'n' he goes on down the line singin', +_Onward, Christian Soldiers_. + +"Ole man Sanford orders a set of silks. He's got to send away fur the +kind he wants 'n' he won't let me start his hoss till they come. +Nobody but big stables pays attention to colors, so I tries to talk him +out of the notion,--nothin' doin'! + +"'Ma colors were known and respected in days gone by, suh,' he says. +'Ah owe it to the public who reposed confidence in the puhple and +white, to fly ma old flag when Ah once moh take the field. Yes, suh.' + +"'Purple 'n' white!' I says. 'Them's the colors of the McVay stable!' + +"'Ah was breeding stake hawsses, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'when his +mothah's milk was not yet dry upon the lips of young McVay.' + +"When the silks come, I picks out a real soft spot for Trampfast. It's +a six furlong ramble fur has-beens 'n' there's sure a bunch of kioodles +in it! Most of 'em ought to be on crutches. My hoss has showed me the +distance in fourteen, 'n' that's about where this gang'll stagger home. +With the hop in him the Trampfast hoss'll give me two seconds better. +He ought to be a swell bet. But the hop puts all the heart in him +there is--he ain't got one of his own. If he runs empty he'll lay down +sure. I can't hop him, so I won't bet on him with counterfeit money. + +"The mawnin' of the race ole man Sanford's at the stalls bright 'n' +early. He's chipper as a canary. He watches Chick hand-rub the hoss +fur a while 'n' then he pulls out a roll 'n' eases Chick two bucks. I +pipes off the roll. The ole man sees me lookin' at it. + +"'Ah intend to wageh moderately today,' he says. 'And Ah have brought +a small sum with me foh the puhpose.' + +"'What you goin' to bet on?' I says. + +"'Ma own hawss, of co'se, suh,' he says. 'It is ma custom to back only +ma own hawsses or those of ma friends.' + +"I don't say nothin'. I'm wise by this time, he plays the game to suit +hisself, but it sure makes me sick. I hate as bad to see the ole man +lose his dough as if it's mine. + +"I goes over 'n' sets down on the track fence. + +"'When you train a hoss fur a guy you do like he says, don't you?' I +says to myself. 'You don't own this hoss, 'n' the owner don't want him +hopped. They ain't but one answer--don't hop him.' + +"'But look-a here,' I says back to myself. 'If you sees a child in +wrong, you tells him to beat it, don't you? It ain't your child, is +it? Well, this ole man ain't nothin' but a child. If he was, he'd let +you hop the hoss, 'n' make a killin' fur him.' I argues with myself +this way, but they can't neither one of us figger it out to suit the +other. + +"'I wish the damned ole fool had somebody else a-trainin' his dog!' I +thinks after I've set there a hour 'n' ain't no further along 'n I was +when I starts. + +"When it's gettin' towards post time, ole man Sanford hikes fur the +stand. + +"'Skinny,' I says, 'amble over to the bettin' shed 'n' watch what the +ole man does. As soon as he's got his kale down, beat it back here on +the jump, 'n' tell me how much he gets on 'n' what the odds are.' + +"In about ten minutes here comes Skinny at a forty shot. + +"'He bets a hundred straight at fifteen-to-one! What do you know about +that?' he hollers. + +"'That settles it!' I says. 'Chick, get them two bottles that's hid +under the rub-rags in the trunk! Now, ole Holler-enough,' I says to +the Tramp, 'you may be a imitation hoss, but we're goin' to make you +look so much like the real thing your own mother won't know you! . . .' + +"When Trampfast starts fur the paddock, his eyes has begun to roll 'n' +he's walkin' proud. + +"'He thinks he's the Zar of Rushy,' says Chick. 'He'll be seein' pink +elephants in a minute.' + +"I don't find ole man Sanford till they're at the post. He's standin' +by the fence at the wire. + +"The start's bein' held up by the Tramp. He's sure puttin' on a +show--the hop's got him as wild as a eagle. It's too far away fur the +ole man to see good, so I don't put him hep it's his hoss that's +cuttin' the didoes. + +"Just then Chick comes up. + +"'I hear you get a nice bet down on your hoss, Mr. Sanford,' he says. +'I sure hope he cops.' + +"'Thank you, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'I only placed a small +wageh, but at vehy liberal odds. Ah shall profit materially should he +win his race.' + +"'If he gets away good he'll roll,' says Chick. 'There's no class to +that bunch, 'n' he's a bear with a shot in him. But he's a bad actor +when he's hopped--look at the fancy stuff he's pullin' now!' + +"'You are mistaken, ma boy,' says ole man Sanford. 'This hawss has had +no stimulant _to-day_.' + +"Like a nut I've furgot to tell the boys the ole man ain't on. I tries +to give Chick the high sign, but he's watchin' the hosses, 'n' before I +can get to him he belches up the glad news. + +"'If _he_ ain't hopped one never was!' he says. 'We put a fierce shot +in him. Look at him act if you don--' + +"I kick his shin off right there, but it's too late, ole man Sanford +gets pale as a rag. + +"'How dare you--' he says, 'n' stops. 'But Ah shall prevent it!' he +says, 'n' starts fur the judge's stand. He ain't got a chance--just +then they get away, 'n' he turns back to me when he hears the crowd +holler, 'They're off!' + +"'Young man,' he says, pointin' at me, 'n' he's shakin' like he's cold. +'What have Ah evah done to you to merit such treatment at yoh hands?' + +"I see there's no use to lie to him, so I gives it to him straight. + +"'Mr. Sanford,' I says, 'the hoss can't win without it, 'n' I don't +want to see you lose your money.' + +"Ole man Sanford sort-a wilts. He seems to get smaller. I've never +noticed how old he is till now. He stands a-lookin' at me like he +never sees me before. + +"The crowd begins to yell as the hosses hit the stretch. The Tramp is +out in front, 'n' he stays there all the way. + +"The ole man never even looks towards the track. + +"'He wins easy,' says Chick as they go under the wire, 'n' all you can +hear is 'Trampfast! Trampfast!' but ole man Sanford still keeps +a-starin' at me. + +"'You want to cheer up, Mr. Sanford,' I says. 'You win a nice bet on +him.' + +"He pulls the tickets out of his pocket 'n' looks at 'em. They call +fur sixteen hundred bucks. + +"'As Ah have told you once befoh, young man,' he says, a-lookin' at the +tickets. 'Ah can not blame you greatly, because you are paht of yoh +times. This is the excuse Ah find foh you in thinking Ah would value +money moh than the spohtsmanship of a gentleman. Yoh times are bad, +young man!' he says. 'They have succeeded in staining the puhple and +white at the vehy end. Ah would neveh have raced afteh to-day. It was +a whim of an old man to see his colohs once moh among a field of +hawses. Ah knew Ah was not of this day. Ah should have known bettah +than to become a paht of it even foh a little time. Ah have learned ma +lesson,' he says, lookin' up at me. 'But you have made it vehy bittah.' + +"He looks down at the tickets again fur a minute. . . Then he tears +'em across three ways 'n' drops 'em on the ground." + + + + +CLASS + +"What do you like in the handicap?" I asked, looking up from the form +sheet. + +Blister reached for the paper. + +"Indigo's the class," he said, after a glance at the entries. "If they +run to form, he'll cop." + +"There you go again--with your _class_!" I exclaimed. "You're always +talking about class. What does class mean?" + +"Long as you've been hangin' 'round the track 'n' not know what class +means!" Blister looked at me pityingly. "There's no _class_ to that," +he added, with a grin. + +"Seriously now," I urged. "Explain it to me. Class, as you call it, +is beaten right along. Just the other day you said Exponent was the +class and should have won, but he didn't." + +"He has the most left at that," said Blister. "He wins in three more +jumps. You can't beat class. It'll come back fur more." + +"Molly S. beat him," I insisted. + +"Yep, she beat him that one race," Blister admitted. "But how does she +beat him? Do you notice the boy gets her away wingin' 'n' keeps her +there all the trip? . . . Why? Because he knows she can't come from +behind 'n' win. If the old hoss gets to her any place in the stretch +she lays down to him sure. She ain't got the class 'n' he has. She +can win a race now 'n' then when things break right fur her, but the +Exponent hoss'll win anyway--on three legs if he has to. He's got the +class." + +"How can you get horses with class?" I inquired. "By breeding?" + +"If you want it you lay down big coin fur it," Blister answered. "It +follows blood lines some, but not all the time. I've seed awful dogs +bred clear to the clouds. Then again it'll show in a weanlin'. I've +seed sucklin' colts with class stickin' out all over 'em. Kids has it, +too. It shows real young sometimes." + +"How can a child show anything like that?" I remonstrated. "He has no +opportunity. Class, as I understand it, is deep-seated--part of the +very fiber. It takes a big situation to bring it out. Where did you +ever see a child display this quality?" + +"I've seed it many a time in little dirty-faced swipes," Blister +stated. "I've seed exercise-boys so full of class they put the silks +on 'em before they can bridle a hoss, 'n' they bawl like you've took +away their apple when they lose their first race. You've heard of +Hamilton?" + +"I have been told he is the best sire in America," I replied, wondering +where this question led. + +"I won't say that," said Blister. "There's a lot of good hosses at +stud in this land-of-the-free-when-you-pay-fur-it, but he's up there +with the best of 'em. Did you know I owns him once myself?" + +"Not the great Hamilton?" I protested. + +"Yep, the great all-the-time, anyhow-'n'-any-place Hamilton," Blister +assured me. "'N' speakin' of class in kids 'n' colts, lemme tell you +about it." He reached for his "makin's" and I waited while he rolled a +cigarette, this process being a necessary prelude to a journey into his +past. + +"The year Seattle Sam goes down 'n' out," the words came in a cloud of +cigarette smoke, "I'm at Saratoga. This Seattle is one of the big +plungers, his nod's good with the bookies fur anything he wants to lay, +'n' he sure bets 'em to the sky. He owns a grand string of hosses, 'n' +when one of 'em's out to win, believe me, he carries the coin!" + +"All the same they get him at last 'n' there ain't nothin' else talked +about fur a couple of days when the word goes 'round that he's cleaned. +The bunch acts like somebody's dead. They whisper when they tell it. +It's got 'em dazed. + +"In them days there's a little squirt called Micky that hangs around +the track. He ain't got a regular job; he just picks up odd mounts on +a work-out now 'n' then. He don't weigh eighty pounds, but he's +fresher'n a bucket of paint. His right name's Vincent Mulligan, 'n' +his mother's a widow woman. I learns that 'cause the old lady sends a +truant officer out to the track after him one day, 'n' the cop puts me +wise after Micky has clumb through a stall window, 'n' give him the +slip. + +"'Why, you big truck hoss,' says Micky to the bull as he skidoos +through the window, 'you couldn't catch a cold at the north pole in yer +dirty undershirt!' + +"'Why don't you go to school like you'd ought, Vincent?' I says to +Micky, when he shows up the next day. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. 'Say, are you ever goin' to let me +work one of yer dogs out in place of that smoke?' he says, pointin' at +Snowball, my exercise-boy. + +"'Who you callin' a smoke?' says Snowball, startin' fur Micky. 'I'll +slap the ugly I'ish mouth off you!' + +"Micky picks up a pitchfork. + +"'Go awn, you black boob!' he says. 'If I reaches fer yer gizzard with +this tickler, I gets it!' + +"Snowball backs up. I grabs the fork from the little shrimp. + +"'Now, you beat it!' I says to him. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. He lays down on a bail of straw 'n' +pulls his hat over his face. 'If any guy bothers me while I'm gettin' +my rest,' he says, 'call a hearse. Don't wake me up till some guy +wants a hoss worked out.' + +"One day I goes to lay a piker's bet in Ike Rosenberg's book. + +"'All across on Tantrum,' I says to Ike. + +"'Hello, Blister,' says Ike, when he goes to hand me the ticket. 'I +like that one myself. Go over 'n' lay me a hundred 'n' fifty the same +way,--here's the change.' + +"When I bring Ike his ticket he tells me to wait a minute, 'n' pretty +soon he puts a sheet-writer on the block 'n' steps down. + +"'Come over here,' he says, 'n' I trails him out of the bettin' shed. +'I've took a two-year-old for a thousand dollar marker of Seattle's,' +says Ike, swingin' 'round on me. 'You want him?' + +"'To train, you mean?' I says, 'Is that it?' + +"'Sure,' says Ike. 'You can have him on shares if you want.' + +"'Tell me about him,' I says. + +"'Well,' says Ike, 'he's a big little hoss made good all over. He +ain't never started yet, but he's been propped for two months. He's by +Edgemont. First dam, Cora, by Musketeer. Second dam, Debutante, by +Peddler. Third dam, Daisy Dean, by Salvation. Fourth dam, Iole, by +Messenger. He's registered as Hamilton, 'n' that's all I know.' + +"'That's sure some breedin',' I says. 'But I never takes a colt on +shares. I'll handle him fur you as careful as I know how 'n' it'll +cost you fifty a month. That's the best I can do.' + +"'I'll send him over this evenin',' says Ike. 'Let me know what you +think of him after he works out for you.' + +"I like this Hamilton colt the minute I gets my lamps on him. He ain't +over fifteen hands, but he's all hoss. He'll weigh right at nine +hundred, 'n' that's quite a chunk of a two-year-old. He's got a fine +little head on him 'n' his eye has the right look. A good game hoss'll +look at you like a eagle. I don't want nothin' to do with a sheep-eyed +pup. This colt has a eye like a game cock. + +"Peewee Simpson is at my stalls when they brings the colt over, 'n' +after we've sized him up I asks Peewee what he thinks of the little +rooster. + +"'Him?' says Peewee. 'He's a bear-cat. I'll bet he entertains you +frequent 'n' at short notice. I don't figger him related to Mary's +lamb, not any. You better keep your eye on little Hamilton. Hammy's +likely to be a naughty boy any time.' + +"Peewee's got the correct hunch--the first time Snowball takes him out +Hamilton runs off 'n' the boy don't get him stopped till he romps five +miles. + +"'Can't you stop him sooner'n that?' I says to Snowball when he's back. + +"Micky's at the stalls that mawnin', 'n' he butts in, as usual. + +"'Stop him!' he says. 'That black boob couldn't stop a hoss in a box +stall. Lemme me have him next work-out!' + +"'I'll let you have a slap on the ear,' I says. + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. + +"Next work-out day Hamilton pulls off the same stunt. He's feelin' +extra good that mawnin', I guess, 'cause he makes a nine mile trip of +it. Micky stands there with me, watchin' the colt go round 'n' round +the track. + +"'Why don't you can that choc'lit drop,' he says, ''n' put a white man +up?' + +"'Meanin' you?' I says. 'You'd holler fur your milk bottle before he +goes a eighth with you.' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. + +"I borrows a curb 'n' chain from Eddy Murphy--he's been usin' it on ole +Dandelion. It's fierce--you can bust a hoss's jaw with it. I puts it +on Hamilton next work-out. + +"'I guess that'll hold little Hammy,' I says, when Snowball's up. But +it don't. The colt ain't any more'n felt the curb when he bolts into +the fence 'n' chucks Snowball off. I starts to catch the hoss, but +Micky gets to him first 'n' grabs him. + +"'Lemme give him a whirl,' he says. 'Come on--be a sport fur a change!' + +"Snowball rolls away from the colt 'n' picks hisself up. + +"'He is shoh welcome to him,' he says. 'I got no moh use foh him.' + +"I studies a minute, lookin' at Micky. He don't come much above +Hamilton's knee. He's lookin' at me like a pup beggin' fur a bone. + +"'Go to it, you ornery little shrimp!' I says at last. 'If a worse +pair ever gets together I've never seed it!' + +"Micky gives a yelp like a terrier. + +"'Take off this bit 'n' put a straight bar on him,' he says. + +"'Why, you couldn't hold one of his ears with a bar bit,' I says. + +"'Who's ridin' this hoss?' says Micky. 'Go awn, get the bit!' + +"'Get him what he wants,' I says to Snowball. + +"We leads the colt on to the track, when the bits is changed, 'n' just +as I throws Micky up I see he's got a bat. + +"'What you goin' to do with that?' I says. 'You need a parachute, not +a whip!' + +"'_I_ always ride 'em with a bat. Turn him loose,' says Micky. + +"Well, it's the same thing over again, the colt runs off. All Micky +does is to keep him in the track. I see he ain't pullin' a pound. +They've gone about six mile 'n' Hamilton begins to slow a little. Just +then Micky lights into him with the bat. + +"'Look at dat!' says Snowball. 'He's los' his min'.' + +"'_No, he ain't_!' I says. '_He's there forty ways_!' I've just begun +to tumble the kid's wise as owls. 'Oh, you Micky!' I hollers. 'Go to +it, you white boy!' + +"I hate to tell you how far that kid works the hoss. He keeps handin' +him the bat every other jump. It gets so I can run as fast as they're +movin' 'n' Hamilton's just prayin' fur help. I'm afraid he'll jim the +colt fur good, so I yells at Micky to cut it out, when he comes by. + +"'Come down off of that, you squirt!' I says. 'Do you want to kill the +colt?' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' he says, 'n' 'round they go again. When +Hamilton ain't got more'n a good stagger left, Micky rides him through +the gate to the stall. + +"'Now, pony,' he says to Hamilton, 'don't start nothin' you can't +finish.' + +"The trip kills a ordinary hoss, but they ain't nothin' ordinary about +this Hamilton. I learns _that_ then. We cools him out good 'n' in +three days he's kickin' the roof off the stall. + +"Come work-out day Micky goes up on Hamilton. Say, the colt eats out +of his hand. Micky's got him buffaloed right. He gallops Hamilton a +nice mile 'n' pulls up at the gate. + +"'What do you want him to do now? Stand on his head?' he says. 'Times +is dull.' + +"'Shoot him three furlongs,' I says. + +"'Shoot is the word,' says Micky. + +"Hamilton romps the three furlongs in nothin' flat--I'm tickled sick. + +"'He's a bear!' I says to Micky at the stalls. ''N' as fur you--you're +on the pay-roll.' + +"'Why, you're a live one, ain't you?' says Micky. 'Wait till I go +chase the Smoke!' The next thing I see is Snowball goin' down the line +like a quarter hoss, 'n' Micky's proddin' at him with a pitchfork. + +"'He won't be back,' says Micky, when he's puttin' up the fork. + +"'Now, look-a here,' I says, 'you got to cut this rough stuff, if you +works fur me.' + +"'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky to me. + +"Right then I gets him by the collar, 'n' takes a bat from the rack. I +works on him till the bat's wore out 'n' then reaches fur another. +Micky ain't opened his face. I wears that one out 'n' grabs another. +Micky looks up at the rack--there's four more bats left. + +"'Nix on number three!' he yells. 'I'm listenin' to you!' + +"'All right,' I says, hangin' up the bat. 'Now, listen good. _Cut out +this rough stuff_--you got me?' + +"'I got you,' says Micky. + +"I tells Ike he's got a good colt, but only one boy can ride him. Ike +comes over to the stalls with me to see the boy 'n' Hamilton. + +"'Not that kid?' he says, when he takes a slant at Micky. 'A +hobby-hoss lets him out.' + +"Micky goes straight up. + +"'Why, you fat-headed Kike!' he says. 'The only thing you can tell me +about a hoss is how much the nails cost to hold his shoes on.' + +"Ike turns to me. + +"'Don't never let that boy throw a leg over a hoss of mine again,' he +says. 'Enter this colt in the two-year-old scramble Friday. I'll get +Whitman to ride. I guess _he'll_ hold him.' + +"'Now, look at that!' I says to Micky when Ike's gone. 'You _will_ +shoot off your face, won't you? Ain't you _never_ goin' to learn to +keep that loud trap of yours closed?' + +"'Aw, you go--' Micky stops there. + +"I takes a step towards the whip rack. + +"'Come on--' I says, 'let's hear from you!' + +"'--to hell with the big Kike!' says Micky. + +"'Does that let me in?' I says. + +"Micky studies a minute lookin' at me 'n' the bats in the rack. + +"'Naw--just the Kike,' he says at last. + +"When Whitman's up on Hamilton, before they goes to the post, I tries +to put him wise. + +"'You're on a bad actor, Whitty,' I says. 'If you ain't on your toes, +he runs off with you sure.' This Whitman's a star, 'n' nobody knows it +better'n him. + +"'What do _you_ hire a jock fur?' he says. 'Why don't you train 'n' +ride both?' + +"'All right,' I says. 'I'm _tellin'_ you now!' + +"'If this hoss is ready,' says Whitman, 'you've earned your +money--don't work overtime.' + +"I goes through the paddock 'n' out on the lawn. Before I'm there I +hears the crowd yellin'. When I can see the track, there's the field +at the post all but Hamilton. He 'n' Whitty has made a race all to +theirselves. It turns out to be a six mile ramble with only one entry. + +"I goes to the stand 'n' scratches Hamilton while he's still runnin'. +The field waits at the post till they get a clear track. + +"'I didn't know this was a distance race,' I says to Whitty when he +gets down. Whitty's sore as a crab, the bunch'll mention it to him the +rest of the season. + +"'You don't want a jock on this thing,' he says. 'A engineer is what +he needs.' + +"'Sell him,' is the first words Ike says to me when I sees him. + +"'_Sell him_?' I says. 'You must be drunk! Why, he don't bring a ten +case note. Everybody's hep he's a bolter. Now listen! This is a real +good colt, 'n' I know it; but the bunch don't. That boy of mine can +ride him. If you gives the colt another chance with my boy up, he +shows 'em somethin'. Then you can get a price fur him.' + +"'Do what you like with him,' says Ike. 'But I don't pay out another +simoleon on him! I'm through right now!' + +"'Give me half what he wins his next out 'n' _I'll_ take a chance with +him,' I says. + +"'You're on,' says Ike. 'But you pay the entrance.' + +"'Surest thing you know,' I says, 'n' goes over to the stalls. + +"In two weeks there's to be a handicap fur two-year-olds. It's worth +three thousand to the winner. It's the best baby race at the meetin'. +Hamilton'll come in awful light 'n' he'll get five pounds apprentice +allowance fur Micky; but it'll put a big crimp in my roll to pay the +entrance. I studies over it some 'n' I gets cold feet. It takes three +hundred bones to sit in. I've about decided it's too rich fur my +blood, when next work-out day comes 'n' Hamilton works four furlongs, +with Micky up, like a cyclone. That gets my circulation goin' 'n' I +takes a shot at it. + +"'Who's burning this up on the ten mile wonder?' says the sec. to me, +when I'm payin' the entrance. 'The work seems a little coarse for my +old friend Ike.' + +"'I'm Smiling Faces this load of poles,' I says. + +"'Why, Blister,' says the sec. 'I never thought it of you! But we're +much obliged to you just the same.' + +"There's eight starters in the handicap besides Hamilton. One of 'em's +a big clumsy colt named Hellespont. The bunch calls him the Elephant, +'n' he's sour as lemons. I see his eyes a-rollin' in the paddock, 'n' +I know he's hopped. Just as the parade starts he begins to cut the +mustard. He rears 'n' tries to come down all spraddled out on the colt +ahead of him in the line, but the jock runs him into a stall 'n' they +take hold of him till the rest is out on the track. + +"Micky ain't had no experience at the post. I've borrowed a pair of +glasses 'n' I'm watchin' the get-a-way pretty anxious. Hamilton's +actin' fine, but the Elephant is holdin' up the start. All of a sudden +he rears clear up 'n' comes down across Hamilton. The colt does a flop +'n' I see the Elephant rear 'n' stamp him a couple a times before the +assistant drives him off with the bull whip." + +[Illustration: "I see the Elefant stamp him."] + +"'Good-by, three hundred!' I says to myself, I can't see good fur the +dust, but they pulls Micky out from under the colt, 'n' when I gets +another slant, Hamilton's on his feet 'n' the starter's talkin' at +Micky. I can see Micky shakin' his head. It ain't long till they puts +him up again. + +"'That's the good game kid!' I says out loud. 'Oh, you 'Micky boy!' +also out loud. + +"They get off to a nice start. When they hit the stretch I throws my +hat away. Hamilton's in front two lengths. A eighth from home I see +there's somethin' wrong with Micky. He's got his bat 'n' lines in his +left mitt. His right hook is kind-a floppin' at his side, but +Hamilton's runnin' true 'n' strong. The colt looks awful good to the +sixteenth 'n' then his gait goes clear to the bad. I see he's all shot +to pieces behind, 'n' he's stoppin' fast. I'm standin' at the inner +rail ten len'ths from the wire, 'n' the Elephant colt gets to Hamilton +right in front of me. + +"'I gotcha, jock!' yells the boy on the Elephant. + +"'They don't pay off here,' says Micky, 'n' sticks the lines in his +face. Then he goes to the bat with his south hook 'n' Hamilton lays +back his ears 'n' runs true again. . . . He out-games the Elephant a +nod at the wire 'n' I'm twelve hundred to the clear. + +"When I gets to 'em, Micky's standin' in the track leanin' against +Hamilton. The colt's shakin' all over 'n' his hind feet's in a big +pool of blood. I gives a' look 'n' the left rear tendon is tore off +from hock to fetlock. + +"'Good God, look at that!' I says to Micky. + +"Micky turns 'n' looks. + +"'Aw, pony . . .' he says, 'n' busts out cryin'. He leans up against +the colt again 'n' he's shakin' as bad as Hamilton. + +"Just then the boy gets down from the Elephant. + +"'I'd a beat that dog in another jump,' he says to Micky. + +"'You?' says Micky. 'I'm goin' to _kill you_!' He starts fur the boy, +but he turns kind-a greeny white 'n' does a flop on the track. + +"When I goes to pick him up I see a bone comin' through the flesh just +above the wrist on his right hook. + +"We puts him in a blanket 'n' the swipes start to carry him off. + +"'What's the matter with the kid?' says Ike comin' up. + +"'Arm broke, I guess,' I says." + +"Ike sees the blood 'n' walks behind Hamilton. + +"'I wish it was his neck,' he says, pointin' at the tendon. 'That's +what you get fur puttin' a pin-headed apprentice on a good hoss! Get +him so he can hobble, 'n' sell him to a livery if you can. If not, +have him shot.' + +"Hamilton's standin' there a-shakin'. His eyes has the look you always +sees in a hoss just after he's ruined. + +"'What'll you take fur him?' I says to Ike. + +"'Take fur him?' he says. 'Whatever he'll bring. I ain't out nothin' +on him. I splits three thousand with you to the race.' + +"'You owe me a hundred 'n' thirty fur trainin',' I says. 'I calls it +off 'n' keeps the hoss.' + +"'You've bought him,' says Ike, 'n' goes back to the bettin' shed. + +"They take Micky to the hospital. The doc says his arm's broke 'n' +he's hurt inside. He comes to before they puts him in the ambulance. + +"'Why didn't you let another boy ride?' says the assistant starter, +who's helpin' the doc. + +"'Ride hell!' says Micky. 'He runs off with them other boobs.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee Simpson gets Hamilton to the stall. It takes him just +one hour to do that hundred yards, but I've got a tight bandage above +the hock 'n' he don't bleed so bad. + +"'Can you get him so he can walk?' I says to the vet. when he's looked +at the colt. + +"'Yes,' he says; 'but that'll be about all for him. I advise you to +have him destroyed. What hoss _is_ this?' + +"'Hamilton,' I says. 'He just wins the colt race.' + +"'So?' he says. 'I didn't see it. When did _this_ happen?' + +"'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.' + +"'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?' + +"'He did,' I says. + +"'On _that_?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do, +kid me?' + +"'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter +a damn to me whether you believe it or not!' + +"'Why, you _ain't_ kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute--' + +"He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several. + +"'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!' + +"'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more. + +"'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.' + +"'What did you ever buy _him_ for?' he says. + +"I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton. + +"'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says. + +"'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?' + +"I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round +the colt a couple a times. + +"'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off +your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight--_this +hoss wont never do more than walk_. But he's bred out a sight 'n' I +like his looks. There's a chance somebody could use him in the stud. +I'm willin' to get him in some sort-a shape 'n' see if I can't make a +piece of money on him. What do you say?" + +"'Well,' I says, 'you're fixed better to get him in shape'n me. I just +wanted to give the little hoss a show. If _you'll_ give it to him, +he's yours.' + +"'Here's your money,' says the vet. 'I'll send my wagon for him +to-morrow. Let me have a lantern till I get this leg so it won't hurt +him so bad to-night.' + +"The next day every paper I picks up has a great big write-up in it +about Micky 'n' the colt. Until the wagon comes fur him there's a +regular procession to the stall to look at Hamilton, 'n' when I goes to +the hospital that night you can't see Micky fur flowers around his bed. + +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'Do they think I'm a stiff?' + +"'Sh-h-h!' says the sister that's nursin' him. + +"I don't see Hamilton fur a month. One day I goes over to the big +Eastern sale at New York, just to hear ole Pappy Danforth sell 'em. +Pappy's stood on a block all his life. He knows every hoss-man in the +country. When _he_ tells you about a hoss, it's right; 'n' everybody +takes his tip. He just about sells 'em where they ought to go. + +"There's a fierce crowd at the sale 'n' some grand stuff goes under the +hammer. Pappy kids the crowd along 'n' sells 'em so fast it makes you +dizzy. They don't more'n lead a hoss out till he's gone. + +"All of a sudden Pappy climbs clear up on the desk in front of him 'n' +stands there a minute, pushin' back his long white hair. + +"'Na-ow, boys!' he says. 'I'm goin' to sell you a three-legged hoss! +An'--listen to the ole man--he's wuth more'n any four-legged hoss, +livin' or dead!' + +"I rubbers hard to get a look at a hoss Pappy boosts like that, 'n' I +nearly croaks when they lead Hamilton into the ring. The colt's a +dink, right. He's stiff as a poker behind, but he's still got that +game-cock look to his eye. + +"'Na-ow, boys!' sings out Pappy, 'there's the biggest little hoss ever +you saw! Don't look at him--any of you fellahs that wants a yellah +dawg to win a cheap race with! _He_ ain't in _that_ class. Step +forwahd, you breeders, an' grasp a golden opportunity! Send the best +brood mares you've got to this little hoss . . . he's a giant! _You +hear me--a giant_! Ed Tumble, I'm talkin' to you! I'm talkin' to you, +Bill Masters--an' Harry Scott there . . . an' Judge Dillon . . . an' +all you big breeders! You've _read_ what this little hoss done in the +newspapers. You can _see_ his breedin' in your catalogues. You can +_look him over_ as he stands there! But best of all--_listen to the +old man_! when he tells you he never held a hammer over a better one in +fifty years. Na-ow, boys! I'm goin' to sell him for the high dollah, +an' the man who gets him at any price . . . _you hear me--at any +price_! . . . is goin' to have the laugh on the rest of you fellahs! +Aw-l-l right--_what do I hear_?' + +"'Five hundred!' says some guy. + +"'Why, Frank, five hundred won't buy a hair out of his tail . . . _what +do I hear_?' says Pappy. + +"'Two thousand!' yells somebody. + +"'Na-ow listen, Tom, if you want the little hoss, cut out this triflin' +an' bid for him,' says Pappy. '_What do I hear_?' + +"'Five thousand!' some guy hollers. + +"'That's just a nice little start . . . _what do I hear_?' says Pappy, +'n' I goes into a trance. + +"I don't come to till I hears Pappy sing out: + +"'So-o-ld to you for sixteen thousand dollahs, Mr. Humphrey, _an' you +never bought a cheaper one_!' + +"It's a wonder I ain't run over gettin' to the depot. I don't know +where I'm at. I just keeps sayin' 'sixteen thousand--sixteen +thousand--' over 'n' over to myself. I beats it out to the hospital +when I gets back, to tell Micky. They're goin' to let him out in a day +or so 'n' Micky's settin' up in a chair with wheels to it. + +"'Give a guess what Hamilton brings in the Big Eastern,' I says to him. + +"'I dunno,' says he. 'How much?' + +"'Sixteen thousand bucks!' I says. 'How does that lay on your +stummick?' + +"'Hell!' says Micky. 'That ain't nothin'--look-a-here!' + +"He shoves a paper at me he's been holdin' in his mitt. It's a ridin' +contract fur two years with the Ogden stable at ten thousand a year. + +"So you see, just like I tells you," Blister wound up, "they lay down +real money fur _class_." + +"The man who bought the horse," I said, "certainly got what he paid +for--everybody knows _now_ that Hamilton has class. But how about the +boy?" + +"Did you ever see Vincent ride?" Blister looked at me inquiringly. + +"I saw him ride once in the English Derby," I replied. "Why?" + +"Well," said Blister, "his mother lives in New York in a brownstone +house he bought her, with two Swede girls to do as much work as she'll +let 'em. When he comes home, she calls him 'Micky.' Is there class to +him?" + +"Yes," I said, "there's class to him." + + + + +EXIT BUTSY + +"What's all them rubes got ribbons on 'em fur?" asked Blister. + +I followed his gaze to a group of variously garbed men and women who +had just rounded the paddock, and who slowly bore down upon us as they +drifted from stall to stall in a haphazard inspection of the great +racing plant at Latonia. Prominent upon the person of each member of +this party was a bountiful strip of yellow ribbon. The effect was +decidedly gay. + +I had encountered similar ribbons in every nook and cranny of the Queen +City during the last few days, and I knew that each bore in thirty-six +point Gothic condensed, the words, "Ohio State Grange." + +"Those are Ohio farmers and their wives who are attending a convention +in Cincinnati," I explained. "The ribbons are convention badges." + +Blister allowed the saddle girth he was mending to lie unnoticed across +his knees as the delegates by twos and threes straggled past. + +Each female member of the party carried a round paper fan with a cane +handle, and talked unceasingly. These streams of conversation were +entirely regardless of one another. It was as though many brooks +babbled onward side by side, but never joined. One fragment that +reached us, I preserved. + +"An' I sez to the doctor when he come, sez I, 'Doctor, I ain't held a +bite on my stummick these three livelong days!'" This was delivered by +a buxom dame, fanning vigorously the meanwhile, and was noteworthy +since the lady was closely followed by a little man whose frailty +suggested dissolution, and who bore a large lunch box under one arm and +a heavy child upon the other. + +The men appeared somewhat interested in the pampered nervous-looking +thoroughbreds, but made few comments. As compared to their women folk +they seemed more silent than the very tomb itself. + +Long after the grangers had drifted out of our sight, Blister's +thoughts seemed devoted to them. Several times he chuckled to himself. + +"Every time I see a bunch of rubes," he said at last, "it puts me in +mind of Butsy Trimble 'n' the new stalls at Lake Minnehaha Park." + +"Lake Minnehaha Park," I repeated. "I never heard of such a place." + +"It's up at Mount Clinton," Blister explained. "It's Ohio's beauty +spot." + +"Get out!" I scoffed. + +"Fact!" said Blister. "It says so right over the gates." + +"Tell me about it," I demanded. + +"This ain't been so long ago," said Blister. "The meetin' here at +Latonia is about over. Ole Whiskers has put the game on the fritz in +New York, so everybody's studyin' where to ship when get-away day +comes, 'n' the whole bunch is sore as bears--you can't get a pleasant +word from nobody. + +"All I got in my string is some two-year-olds of Judge Dillon's. They +go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried +none--not about where to ship. + +"One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with +a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss +paper. + +"'Gimme high, jack, game--' says Peewee, after a hand. + +"'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?' + +"'I s'pose you want to count fur game--don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll +give it to you sooner'n argue with you.' + +"'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says. + +"'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd +rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?' + +"'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't +hog game!' + +"Peewee lays down his cards. + +"'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this +bale of hay--it'll _poison_ a hoss if _you_ set on it much longer!' + +"'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog +_it_ like you does game?' + +"'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee. + +"'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where +she is till she makes her last flicker.' + +"'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act +like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out +of this paper--us three can pull it off to a finish!' + +"'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee +then to me. + +"'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around +here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!' + +"Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up. He shows us an ad in +his paper askin' fur entries to race over the Ohio Short Ship Circuit. +This circuit is a bunch of race meets that's held on the bull rings at +county fairs up through the state. They're trottin' races mostly, but +they give one runnin' race at a different town each week. + +"'Now,' says Butsy, 'I'm born 'n' raised in Mount Clinton, Ohio. I +sees the race meet there frequent 'n' she's a peach. You can have a +hoss lay down 'n' go to sleep on the track if you don't want him to win +'n' then tell the judges he's got spring fever. Everything goes except +murder. We'll take that black stud of mine 'n' Peewee's bay geldin' +'n' hit this punkin circuit. We can win a purse each week fur +travelin' expenses, 'n' what we cops on the side is velvet.' + +"'What do you want me fur?' I says. + +"'Why,' says Butsy, 'at these county fairs there ain't no bookies. +They just bets from hand to hand. While me 'n' Peewee rides, you +sashay out among the rubes 'n' get the coin down on whichever hoss we +frames to win.' + +"We sets there 'n' talks over the proposition most all night. Butsy +says it's a cinch 'n' it ain't long till me 'n' Peewee figgers he's got +it doped right. + +"'Let's go against it, Blister,' Peewee says to me. 'What do you say, +old pal?' + +"'I'm there with bells on,' I says, 'n' that settles it. I ships my +colts to Judge Dillon, 'n' the next week we start. + +"These punkin races is all half-mile dashes, best two out of three. +Peewee's geldin' is a distance hoss--he don't get goin' good under a +mile. In a bull-ring sprint he ain't got a chance with this black stud +of Butsy's. + +"Our game is to have Butsy turn his dash-hound loose the first heat. +Then I ambulates out among the rubes 'n' acts like I'm willing to bet +on the bay geldin'. If I finds a live one, Butsy takes his hoss up in +his lap the last two trips 'n' Peewee comes on 'n' grabs the gravy. + +"We figger the rubes'll eat it up after seein' that nice-lookin' black +stud romp away with the first heat. But right there the dope falls +down--the rubes ain't as dead as they look. + +"In the first town we strike I eases up to a tall Jasper after the +black hoss has grabbed the opener on the bit. + +"'Say, pardner,' I says, 'do you ever bet a piece of money on a race?' + +"This Jasper is just a Adam's apple surrounded by arms 'n' legs. + +"'Well, I should say as much,' he says. 'But most ginrally they wan't +nobody bet with me. Up in Liberty Township the boys call me Lucky +Andy.' + +"'It's a crime to do this!' I says to myself. 'I'll make a little bet +with you, pardner,' I says out loud. 'Not much though--you're too +lucky!' + +"'How was ye calkewlatin' to bet?' says the Jasper. + +"'This black hoss acted kind-a tired to me,' I says. 'I'll just bet +you twenty bucks he don't win the race.' + +"'You look like a smart little cuss,' he says. 'What's good enough fer +you is good enough fer me.' He beats it over to where another rube is +settin' in a buggy. 'Hi, Bill!' says my Jasper, 'I'll just bet ye +fifty cents the black hawse dun't win the race--even if I do lose!' + +"That's the way it goes right along--the rubes stay away from it. Once +in a while I finds a mark but not often. We win a purse though in +every town 'n' this just about pays expenses. We ain't makin' nothin' +much, but we ain't losin' nothin' neither. We're eatin' regular 'n' +enjoyin' ourselves, except Butsy. _He_ wouldn't enjoy hisself at a dog +fight. + +"This Butsy Trimble is a thin solemn gink 'n' he almost never cracks a +smile. He's got it doped out that everybody's agin him. Peewee 'n' me +has knocked around together so much we knows each other's ways, but we +ain't never had much to do with this Butsy, so we ain't wise to him at +first. + +"It ain't long till Butsy begins to figger we're tryin' to hand it to +him. He gets sour-balled about everythin' we does. We try to kid him, +but he ain't hep to a kid 'n' he don't stand fur it like he'd ought. +His favorite stunt is to say he'll take his hoss 'n' quit. He springs +this right along. + +"From the start this trip gets to Peewee's funny bone. He don't do +nothin' but laugh. Butsy don't see nothin' funny about it, 'n' he gets +to thinkin' Peewee's laughin' at him. + +"Peewee'll lay in the stall at night 'n' laugh 'n' laugh. Pretty soon +he'll get me goin', 'n' then we'll lay 'n' snort fur a hour. Butsy +can't go to sleep 'n' he gets wild. + +"'What th' hell are you laughin' at?' he says. 'If you don't cut this +out 'n' let me get my rest I'll quit the game tomorrow!' + +"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n' +Butsy'll quit. + +"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we +grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot--he +acts more cheerful right away. + +"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know +every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County +plow-pushers.' + +"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we +unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was. + +"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him. + +"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy. + +"'How do you get out?' says Peewee. + +"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says +Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.' + +"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us +gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n' +we'll come out on the street-car.' + +"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out +the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll +just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.' + +"'Now, Butsy,' I says, 'have some sense! We ain't slippin' you +nothin'. I'd take the dogs 'n' leave you 'n' Peewee ride if I knew the +way. What do you want to make a crack about quittin' fur just as the +game's gettin' good?' I says. 'We cops a neat little bundle at our +last stop, 'n' we'll grab a nice piece of change here. I feel it in my +bones.' + +"'All right,' says Butsy. 'I'll be the goat just once more--but take +it from me this is the last time!' + +"'Send a wagon fur the trunk when you get up-town,' I says to Butsy +when he's goin'. + +"'Furget it!' he says. 'Put her on the street-car. The car runs right +into Minnehaha Park 'n' you can unload her in front of the stalls.' + +"'You can't take a trunk on a street-car,' I says. + +"'Wait till you see this street-car,' says Butsy. + +"'Ain't they but one?' says Peewee. + +"'That's all,' says Butsy. 'Orphy Shanner runs it.' + +"Me and Peewee stands a-waitin' fur the street-car fur thirty minutes, +then I goes into the freight depot office. + +"'Is the street-car runnin'?' I says to the old gazink at the desk. + +"'Ye can't rightly call it runnin',' he says. 'It ain't been settled +yet. Some claims she dun't, some claims she do. Them that claims she +dun't is those who've rid on her.' + +"'Well, whatever she does,' I says, 'will she get here this mawnin'? I +got to get to the race track.' + +"'I'll call up Orphy an' see,' says the old gazink. 'Hello, Tessie,' +he says, after he grinds away at the telephone handle fur a while. +'Git a-holt of Orphy Shanner fer me out to th' park--that's a good +girl.' In about ten minutes somebody begins to talk over the phone. +'Say, Orphy, this is Ed at the B. & O. Freight,' says the old gazink. +'I got a passenger down here fer ye.' Then he listens at the phone. +'I don't know who he is. He's a stranger tu me,' he says, 'n' listens +some more. 'All right, I'll tell him,' he says, 'n' hangs up the phone. + +"'Orphy says fer me to tell ye thet he's comin' in to get Mrs. Boone at +the Public Square at eleven o'clock,' he says to me. 'He's goin' to +take her out High Street to a whisk party at Mrs. Pucker's, an' he'll +come down here an' git ye then.' + +"'Why, it ain't ten o'clock yet,' I says. + +"'Well, you kin set in here out of the rain an' wait,' he says. + +"I thinks we better walk 'n' then I remembers that cussed trunk. + +"'Much obliged,' I says. 'I'll go out 'n' get my friend.' + +"'Be they two of ye?' says he. 'Jeerusalem, I told Orphy they wa'n't +but one.' + +"When I gets back with Peewee, the old gazink pushes a couple of chairs +at us. + +"'Set right down, boys,' he says, ''n' make yourselves mis'able.' Then +he puts a chew in his face that would choke a he-elephant 'n' begins to +ask us questions. The only thing he don't ask us he don't think of. +He'll stop right in the middle of a word 'n' say, 'pit-too-ee,' 'n' hit +a flat box full of sawdust dead center. I don't see him miss once.' + +"After he's got us pumped dry he begins to tell us what _he_ knows, 'n' +believe me he's got a directory beat to a custard. He hands us some +info about everybody who's alive in Mount Clinton 'n' then starts in on +the cemetery. He works back till he's talkin' about some 'dead an' +gone these twenty year,' as he says. + +"I happens to look at Peewee--Peewee's in a trance. He can't look +away. He's noddin' his head 'n' his eyes has got a glassy stare. I +goes outside quick 'n' lays up against the side of the buildin'. + +"When I get back the old gazink is still workin' on Peewee, but all of +a sudden he stops 'n' listens. + +"'Pit-too-ee--there's your car, boys!' he says, 'n' then I begins to +hear a groanin' sound. + +"Man! they ain't no way to tell you about that street-car! She falls +to pieces only they wraps all the upper parts together with wire till +she looks like a birdcage. A big freckled guy with red hair is runnin' +her 'n' I know just by lookin' at him it's Orphy. + +"'Howdy, boys,' he says to us when he gets to where we're standin'. +'Jump aboard! I'm goin' down far as the pumpin' station an' the brakes +ain't workin' just like they'd ought-a this mornin'.' + +"'We've got a trunk,' I says. + +"'Oh!' he says, 'n' spins the whirligig. She keeps right on goin'. +Then he runs back 'n' yanks the trolley off, 'n' she begins to slow +down. 'Git your trunk an' fetch it to where I stop at!' he hollers. +'The cut-off ain't workin' just like it ought-a this mornin'.' + +"We lugs the trunk down to the car 'n' puts her on the back platform. + +"'That's the way things goes!' says Orphy. 'I hadn't figgered on no +trunk. Ed never tells me nothin' about it. You better set on it,' he +says. 'The seats ain't just in first-class shape this mornin'.' I +looks inside at the seats, 'n' he's got it doped right--some chickens +has spent the night on 'em. + +"After we gets to goin' Orphy pokes his head in the door. + +"'The company don't allow me to handle the money,' he says. 'But my +friends most gen'ally drop the fare down the right-hand side of the +slot.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee goes forward 'n' looks at the money box. The front of +the car has warped till there's a big crack in the right-hand side of +the box you can see the platform through. I drops two nickels in on +that side, 'n' bing! they go down the shoot 'n' out the crack. They +falls on the platform 'n' Orphy picks 'em up 'n' goes south with 'em. + +"'That's what I call a live guy!' says Peewee. 'I'm proud to know him.' + +"Pretty soon Orphy comes back 'n' jerks the trolley off 'n' we stop on +a big square with a monument in the middle. + +"'We got to wait here at the Public Square fer Mrs. Boone,' he says. + +"In about twenty minutes here comes a dame across the Square. She's +sixteen hands high 'n' will girt according. She belongs in the +heavy-draft class 'n' she's puffin' some. + +"'How-dee-do, Orphy,' she says. 'I'm a mite late, but I didn't get +shet of my peach butter as quick as I aimed to.' + +"'That's all right, Missus Boone,' says Orphy. 'The company allows me +a liberal schedool. Set right down on the trunk, Missus Boone. I +wouldn't resk the seats this mornin' if I was you.' + +"'What's wrong with 'em?' says Mrs. Boone, 'n' pokes her head in the +door. 'Land a Liberty!' she says. 'I shall certainly write to the +_Banner_ about this! I call it disgraceful!' Then she sets down on +the trunk. + +"I'm standin' up, but Peewee's still on it. She covers the whole +trunk, but a little corner, 'n' Peewee tries to set on that. + +"'Why don't you give the lady some room?' I says to Peewee, 'n' he gets +up 'n' leaves her have the trunk. + +"'You're a real polite young man,' says Mrs. Boone to me. + +"We ain't more'n got started when the dame lets out a holler. + +"'Orphy!' she yells, 'Stop! Wait a minute! Whoa!' Orphy comes 'n' +yanks off the trolley. + +"'I declare to goodness!' says Mrs. Boone. 'I've furgot my rubbers. +Run up and get them for me, Orphy--they're behind the door in the front +hall.' + +"'I'd like to oblige you real well, Mrs. Boone,' says Orphy, 'but the +company don't allow me to leave the car when I'm on duty--' + +"'Well, I call lookin' after your customers bein' on duty,' says Mrs. +Boone. 'Now, you skip an' get my rubbers, Orphy Shanner!' + +"Orphy beats it fur the rubbers. + +"While he's gone Mrs. Boone goes 'n' drops a nickel down the chute, but +she don't put it in the right side 'n' it trickles down into the box. +When Orphy gets the car started after he's back, he turns 'round 'n' +gives a sad look at the nickel in the box. + +"'Stung!' says Peewee, 'n' I think he's goin' to fall off the car. + +"'What ails that young man?' says Mrs. Boone to me. 'He seems to be +havin' a spell.' + +"'It ain't nothin',' I says. 'He'll be all right in a minute.' + +"We lets Mrs. Boone off after while 'n' keeps on goin' fur a mile or so +till we come to some gates. In gold letters over the gates is 'Ohio's +Beauty Spot,' 'n' below that in bigger letters yet is 'Lake Minnehaha +Park.' We goes through these gates 'n' there's the track. More'n half +the center-field is took up by a baseball diamond. In the other half +is a pond with a shoot-the-chutes runnin' down into it. + +"'Where's the lake?' Peewee says to Orphy. + +"'Right in front of your nose,' says Orphy, pointin' at the pond. + +"'She's some body of water,' says Peewee. 'If you ain't careful a big +rough guy'll come along here with a tin cup some dark night 'n' go +south with her.' + +"'I guess not,' says Orphy. 'She's four feet deep--in spots.' + +"When we come in sight of the stalls, there's Butsy standin' in the +rain with the hosses. A big bunch of Jaspers is holdin' a meetin' out +in front of a row of bran'-new stalls that's just been put up. There's +a hot argument goin' on 'n' they don't pay no attention to the rain. + +"'You gone dippy?' I says to Butsy. 'What are you standin' out in the +rain with the dogs fur? Why don't you put 'em up?' + +"'No chance,' says Butsy. 'All the stalls is took except these new +ones, 'n' the guy who furnished the lumber fur 'em won't unlock 'em +till he's paid.' + +"I looks at the stalls--there's a great big padlock on each door. + +"'Why don't they slip him the coin?' I says. + +"'You can search me,' says Butsy. 'That's what they're chewin' the rag +about now.' + +"Me 'n' Peewee slides over to where the crowd is. + +"'I'll have the law on ye sure!' a old Jasper is sayin'. He's got on a +long-tailed coat 'n' a white string tie. + +"'Edge right in!' whispers Peewee to me. 'It ain't goin' to cost you a +cent!' + +"'You ain't got no right to lock them stalls, Jim Burns!' says the old +Jasper. 'They belong to the Knox County Agricultural Society!' + +"'Not till I'm paid fer the lumber, they don't!' says the guy he calls +Jim Burns. 'Gimme eighty-six dollars, Kurnel, if you want to use them +stalls.' + +"'I'll have the law on ye sure as my name's Hunter!' says the old +Jasper. + +"'I guess you won't,' says Burns. 'My lawyer tells me to lock them +stalls.' + +"'Who's your lawyer?' says the old Jasper. + +"Harry Evans," says Burns. + +"'Well, why ain't he here?' says the old Jasper. + +"'That's right--he'd ought to be here!' says several in the crowd. + +"'I told him to come two hours ago,' says Burns. 'Say, Orphy! +Telephone in an' find out why Harry ain't here!' + +"Orphy climbs off the car 'n' goes in a shed 'n' we hears the telephone +bell jingle. Pretty soon he comes back. + +"'Missus Evans says Harry's fixin' a clock,' says Orphy. 'He's purty +nigh through, an' he aims to git out here soon as she'll strike right. +He's comin' in his autymobile.' + +"The crowd gives a groan. Burns throws up his hands. + +"'He'd a damn sight better walk,' he says. + +"The argument sort-a dies down while they're waitin' fur this Harry +Evans. + +"'Come on!' Peewee says to me. 'I got to tell Butsy the good news.' + +"I see the rain tricklin' off Butsy's nose when we get close to him. + +"'Stay with it, Butsy!' says Peewee. 'They got a lawyer comin' in a +auto--' + +"'Come 'n' hold these dogs fur a while!' says Butsy. + +"'I'd like to,' says Peewee, 'but I can't. I might miss somethin',' +'n' he goes back to where the crowd is. + +"We waits fur about a hour. + +"'Why don't ye git a lawyer that ain't got no autymobile?' says +somebody to Burns. + +"'They've all got 'em,' says Burns. 'I'll give ye a dollar fer every +lawyer in Mount Clinton ye can name who ain't got one of the blame +things!' + +"'How about Sam Koons?' says somebody. + +"'Got one just the other day,' says Burns. 'It's made up to Bucyrus. +It's called the Speeding Queen. He give three hundred and twenty +dollars cash fer it.' + +"Not long after that I begins to notice a noise. It ain't like any +other sound I ever hears before. It gets right into my system. It's +gettin' closer 'n' pretty soon I think I'll go find a nail 'n' bite on +it. + +"'What's that?' says Peewee. + +"'It's him,' says Burns. 'It's Harry. If he don't have no bad luck +he'll be here in twenty minutes. He ain't over a half a mile away +right now.' + +"'I hope they ain't no children on the road,' says Peewee. + +"I figgers this Harry Evans is sure ridin' a threshin'-machine with its +insides loose, but when he comes through the gates I gets a shock. +Say,--his machine ain't much bigger'n a good-sized sardine can! It's +painted red 'n' smoke's comin' out of the front of it. I can roll +faster'n it's movin', but it keeps a-shakin' so he can't hardly set in +the seat. + +"When it's pretty close I see he's a little guy with specs 'n' a yellow +coat on, but he's bein' shook so I can't hardly see what he does look +like. + +"'How-dee-do!' he says, when he gets her stopped. 'Er,--it occurs to +me that I may be a little late. . . . Will any of you gentlemen +indulge in a Cuban Beauty?' He fishes some long black stogies out of +his pocket, but they don't nobody go against 'em, except him--he lights +one. + +"Then the crowd shows him the locked stalls 'n' everybody takes a shot +at tellin' him what ought to be did. + +"'Er,--it occurs to me,' says this Harry Evans, 'that there is a simple +way out of the--er--difficulty.' + +"'There's class to him,' says Peewee. + +"'How's that?' says some one in the crowd. + +"'If Colonel Hunter here will tender me--er--eighty-six dollars in +behalf of my client,' says Harry Evans, 'I'll instruct my client to +unlock the stalls.' + +"'There you are!' says Peewee. + +"The big Jasper lets out a fierce roar. + +"'Not by a damn sight!' says he. 'We leased these grounds with the +full use an' privilege of all buildin's an' other fixtures an' +appurtenances fur the purpose of holdin' a fair. We weren't aimin' to +get skinned out of eighty-six dollars by no lumber concern, 'n' we +ain't a-goin' to neither!' + +"'Let's see your lease?' says Harry Evans. + +"'It's back in town at my office,' says the old Jasper. + +"'Who signed it?' says Harry Evans. + +"'Judge Tate signed it,' says the old Jasper. + +"'Er,--if that's the case,' says Harry Evans, 'get him out here. He's +receiver for the Park Company and you can make him pay this claim.' + +"The whole bunch says that's a good idea. So they tell Orphy to go in +'n' get this Judge Tate. + +"'I got to go 'n' tell Butsy there's a judge comin'!' says Peewee. + +"'Butsy's sore about somethin',' he says when he gets back. + +"This Judge Tate unloads hisself from the car when Orphy brings him, +like he's the most important piece of work fur miles around. He has +little side-whiskers 'n' a bay-window with a big gold chain stretched +across it. He holds a umbrella over hisself with one hand 'n' wiggles +the watch-chain with the other. + +"'Ahem--gentlemen, what can I do for you?' he says. + +"'Something doing now!' says Peewee to me. 'This is God-a'mighty's +right-hand man!' + +"'Er--Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'we are having a dispute concerning +certain buildings on these premises, and--er--it occurred to me you +could settle the matter.' + +"'Settle is the word,' says Peewee to me. + +"'As receiver for the Park Company, Judge,' says Harry Evans, 'can you +tell us--er--who the buildings on these premises belong to?' + +"'Why--ahem--' says the judge, 'it is my understanding that all the +buildings of every sort and description belong to the Park Company, +irrespective of any improvements that the--ahem--lessees may see fit to +make.' + +"'Now yer talkin',' says Burns. 'Just hand me eighty-six dollars due +fer lumber on them new stalls--you claim to own em. + +"'A-he-m!' says the judge. 'That's a different matter. The +Agricultural Society is responsible for those stalls. The man you +should see about your claim is Alf Dingle. I happen to know there is a +certain sum of money in the treasury and I kind of think Alf will pay +this claim. Why don't you try to get him to come out here?' + +"They argue a while 'n' then it's thought best to send fur Alf Dingle. +But Orphy has took the street-car 'n' went. + +"'That's the way it goes,' says the old Jasper they call colonel. +'He's a-chasin' around town with that car instead of stayin' here +tendin' to his business!' + +"'I'll go in and get Alf,' says Harry Evans, startin' fur his machine. + +"Nobody says nothin'. + +"'I ain't got the heart to tell Butsy,' says Peewee. + +"Harry Evans begins to turn the handle on his machine. He turns it fur +ten minutes. When he's all in, he straightens up. + +"'Somebody'll have to help me crank her,' he says. + +"The crowd goes to work. They all take turns. But she don't start. + +"'Er--it occurs to me there may be something wrong with her,' says +Harry Evans, 'n' starts to lift off the cover where the machinery is. +Peewee gives me a poke in the ribs. + +"'I expect he's right,' he says. + +"'I'm gettin' all-fired tired of this putterin' around,' says the old +Jasper. 'Tom', he says to a guy in overalls, 'get a crowbar an' knock +them padlocks off.' + +"'If you do that I'll put ye in jail!' yells Burns. 'That's a criminal +act! It's destruction of property with burglarious intent! Ain't it, +Harry?' + +"Harry comes up out of the machinery. There's grease even on his specs. + +"'It's the carbureter,' he says. + +"'I'll leave it to the judge!' hollers Burns. 'Ain't that a criminal +act?' + +"'A--hem!' says the judge, 'I am not prepared to say you have the right +to those stalls, but I wouldn't advise breaking a lock. As you say, +it's a criminal act.' + +"Just then here comes Orphy rollin' through the gates. + +"'You hustle in an' git Alf Dingle!' says the old Jasper to him. 'An' +when you git back, you stay here where you're needed!' + +"The crowd has moved 'round back of the stalls to watch Harry Evans +work on his machine. I stands with 'em fur a while, but Peewee has +left. All of a sudden I see him poke his head 'round the end of the +new stalls 'n' give me the high sign. + +"'What you standin' out in the rain fur?' he says, when I gets near him. + +"'What else can I do?' I says. + +"'Come on 'n' I'll show you,' says Peewee. + +"He leads me round in front of the stalls. In two of 'em is the hosses +all bedded down nice. Butsy is settin' in the stall with his stud. He +makes a puddle wherever he sets. + +"'How did you get 'em open?' I says. + +"'They ain't locked,' says Peewee. 'None of 'em are. The padlocks is +closed, _but not locked_.' + +"_No_,' I says. + +"'It's the truth!' says Peewee, 'n' we rolls in the straw a-holdin' to +each other till I feel like I'd been stepped on by a draft hoss. + +"Butsy gets up. + +"'Just one more snicker out of either of you,' he says, ''n' I lead my +hoss to the depot!' + +"I see he means it 'n' I gets my head down in the straw 'n' holds my +breath. Butsy stands there a-lookin' at us. + +"'Has Alf come yet?' says Peewee, but he don't look at me. + +"'Not yet, but he's expected,' I says, 'n' Peewee sticks his head down +in the straw 'n' makes a noise like Harry Evans' machine. I does the +same. + +"As soon as I can see again, there's Butsy leadin' his hoss fur the +gate. + +"'Now you've done it,' I says to Peewee. + +"Peewee sets up 'n' takes a look. + +"'Hi, Butsy!' he yells, 'come on back here! We weren't laughin' at +you!' + +"But Butsy keeps right on a-goin'." + + + + +THE BIG TRAIN + +The moon had acted as a stimulant to my thoughts, and the contented +munching sound as the "string" of horses consumed their hay was not +sedative enough to calm my utter wide-awake-ness. + +"Why have you put bars across the door of that stall?" I asked Blister +Jones, trying to rouse him from his placid mood. He pulled a straw +from the bale upon which we sat, before replying. + +"The Big Train's in there," he said quietly. + +"No; is that a fact?" I cried, as I jumped to my feet and walked to the +door across which were the heavy wooden bars that had attracted my +attention. Peering through these I could see nothing, nor was there +any sound toward which I might have strained my eyes. + +"I guess he's not at home," I said. "I can't see him." + +"Stick around that door 'n' you'll see him all right!" Blister assured +me. Scarcely had he finished when the straw rustled and a huge head +shot forward into the planes of moonlight that slanted between the bars +into the black mystery of the stall. + +Never had I seen anything so malevolent as this head. Its eyes were +green flame, holding the hate of hell in their depths. The mouth was +open, and the great white teeth closed with a snap on one of the bars +and shook it in its socket. + +So this was the noted man-killer, nicknamed because of his size and his +astonishing ability to carry weight--The Big Train! His fame had been +borne by leaded column beyond the racing, and to the more general +public; for on several occasions he had succeeded in furnishing the +yellow newspapers with gory copy. + +He had begun his career as a man-killer in his three-year-old form. An +unscrupulous owner had directed the jockey to carry an electric battery +during an important race. Under the current The Big Train had run like +a wild thing, and despite a staggering load placed on him by the +handicapper, had won by many lengths. + +After the race the stallion had reached back, and getting the jockey's +leg between his teeth, had torn him from the saddle. Then before a +screaming, horror-stricken grand-stand he had stamped the boy into a +red waste. + +This was his first and last public atrocity. He had killed men since, +but always when they were alone with him. No one had seen him at his +murders. He would have been destroyed when his racing days were over, +but he possessed the ability to transmit a large measure of his stamina +and speed to his offspring, and was greatly in demand as a sire. + +I stood before The Big Train's stall, fascinated by his wicked attempts +to get at me until Blister's attention was attracted by the thud of the +stallion's hoofs against the lower door. + +"Come on back here 'n' set down 'n' let that hoss get his rest,' he +ordered. I obeyed. + +"Why on earth did you take him?" I asked, when once more seated on the +bale of straw. + +"Well, ole Prindle says he'd give fifty bucks a week to the guy who'll +handle him 'n' I needs the money . . . fur certain reasons." + +"Fur certain reasons" was added diffidently, I thought. This was an +altogether new quality in Blister. And I remembered the pretty, +spoiled-looking, young girl I had seen with him quite often of late. +She was rosy, pouty, slim, enticing and thoroughly aware of how +desirable she appeared. Blister had told me she was his landlady's +daughter, and I knew she lived but a block from the race track. I +thought of the head I had seen, and felt certain that fifty _thousand_ +a week would not tempt me into an intimate relationship with its owner. + +"I can't tell you how sorry I am you've taken him--it's a fearful +risk," I said. + +"Get out!" said Blister. "He won't even muss my hair. I never go in +to him alone 'n' he don't like company fur his little stunts. He's a +regular family hoss in a crowd." + +Two stable-boys now climbed the track fence and came toward us rather +hastily. + +"Been on a vacation?" was Blister's greeting to them. + +"Playin' seven-up 'n' tried to finish the game," one of them explained +as they started with buckets for the pump. + +"That's good. It don't matter whether these hosses get watered, just +so you swipes enjoy yourselves," Blister commented. + +I watched languidly while the buckets were filled and brought to the +horses, until this process reached the barred stall. Then I became +interested. One of the boys approached the stall with a bucket in one +hand and a pitchfork held near the pronged end in the other. He swung +open the lower door and whacked the fork handle back and forth inside, +yelling harsh commands in the meantime. He succeeded in getting the +bucket where the horse could drink, but the pitchfork was seized and +twisted and the boy had difficulty in wrenching it away. It was all he +could do to regain possession of it. + +"Little pink toes is feelin' like his ole sweet self again," said +Blister. "I been worried about him--he's seemed so pie-faced here +lately." + +"Don't worry none about him," said the boy who had watered The Big +Train. "Mama's lamb ain't forgot his cute ways." Then he addressed +the other boy. "Say, Chic, you snored somethin' fierce last night! +Why don't you sleep in here with Bright Eyes, so's not to disturb me?" + +"Would, only I might thrash around in my sleep 'n' hurt him," promptly +replied the other boy. + +Two figures had come from the street, through the gate and strolled +down the line of stalls. One of them was feminine, and in white, and +as they drew nearer, "Good evening, Mister Jones," floated to us in an +assured though girlish voice. + +It was the landlady's daughter, attended by a cavalier in the person of +a stolid young man of German extraction, as I thought at first glance, +and this was confirmed by Blister's, "Let me make you acquainted with +Miss Malloy," and "Shake hands with Mister Shultz." + +Then began the by no means unskilful playing of one lover against the +other. She sat, a queen--the bale of straw a throne--and dispensed +royal favors impartially; a dimple melting to a smile, a frown changed +by feminine magic into a delicious pout. + +In the moonlight she was exceedingly lovely. She seemed +unapproachable, elusive, mysterious, and yet her art touched the +material. She contrived to bring out how successful Mister Shultz was +in the bakery business, and in the next breath told nonchalantly of the +vast sums acquired by a race-horse trainer. + +She appealed to Blister to corroborate this. + +"Isn't that so, Mister Jones? Didn't you tell me you get fifty dollars +a week for training one horse?" + +Blister was not above impressing his rival, it seemed. He nodded to +this deceptive question. And since he had nine horses in his "string," +the worthy German's eyes bulged. + +At last I rose to go and our little circle broke up. The girl, with a +coquettish good night to me, moved away from us and stood with her back +to the stalls, her face lifted to the moon. + +"Good night, ole Four Eyes!" said Blister, and gave my hand a friendly +pressure, just as a rattling sound attracted my eyes to the barred +stall. + +The lower door was swinging open. A powerful neck had tossed the bars +from their sockets. This was the rattle I had heard, as Death came out +of that stall, huge and terrible, to rear above the unconscious white +figure in the moonlight. + +My look of horror swung Blister about. I saw him dive headlong, and +the white figure was knocked to safety as the man-killer's forefeet +struck Blister down. + +The rest was a dream . . . I found myself beating with futile fists the +giant body that rose and fell as it stamped upon that other body +beneath. I knew, but dimly, that the night was pierced by shriek on +shriek. And still I felt the rise and fall of the beast. How long it +lasted I do not know. . . . . . . + +A helmeted figure swept me aside, I saw a gleam in the moonlight--a +flash, and felt that a shot was fired, although I can not remember +hearing it. The Big Train ceased to rise and fall. He swayed, +staggered and crumpled to the ground. + +"An ambulance--quick!" I said to the heaven-sent policeman; and saw him +start for the gate on a lumbering trot. Then I stooped to the figure, +lying with its head in what the moonlight had changed to a pool of ink. + +Suddenly I felt a woman's soft form beneath my hands. It was in white +and it covered that other dreadful figure with its own . . . and moaned. + +"This won't do," I said to the girl. "Let me see how badly he's hurt." + +She took Blister's head in her arms. + +"Go 'way from here! He's dead," she said. "He saved me . . . he's +mine! Go 'way from here!" + +A crowd was forming. I sent a stableboy for a blanket, put it under +Blister's head, despite the girl's protests, and pulled her roughly to +her feet. + +"Go over to that bale and sit down!" I ordered, giving her a shake; and +to my surprise she obeyed. "Sit with her!" I said to the German, and I +heard her repeat, "Go 'way from here!" as he approached. . . . + +The ambulance clanged through the gate. The young surgeon put his ear +to Blister's heart, picked the limp body up unaided and placed it in +the somber-looking vehicle. + +"Beat it, Max!" he said to the driver. + +"What hospital?" I called after him. + +"Saint Luke's!" he shouted, as they gathered speed. + +"You had better take her home now," I suggested to Mr. Shultz. "I am +going to the hospital." + +"So am I," said the girl. "Tell mother," she directed at the German, +as she started for the gate. + +"You'd better not go," I remonstrated. "I'll let you know everything +as soon as I hear." + +She paid not the slightest attention. When we reached the street she +stopped on the wrong corner waiting for a car that would have taken her +away from, instead of toward, the hospital. + +"You can't go down-town like this!" I said, making a last effort. +"Look at your dress!" and I pointed to the front of her gown--a bright +crimson under the electric light. + +She looked down at herself and shuddered. + +"I'll go if it's the last thing I do," she said. "You can save your +breath." + +The car was all but empty. The girl sat staring, dry-eyed, straight +before her. A dirty old woman, seeing the set face and blood-stained +dress, leaned eagerly across the aisle. + +"Has the young lady been hurt?" she wheezed. + +"None of your business," said Miss Malloy. And the old woman subsided +at this shaft of plain truth. + +Our ride was half completed when my companion began to speak, in a +broken monotone. She addressed no one in particular. If was as though +conscience spoke through unconscious lips. + +"And I've been foolin' with him just like all the rest--I thought it +was smart! I never knew, for sure, till back there, and now _he'll_ +never know . . . he'll not hear me when I tell it to him." Suddenly +the monotone grew shrill. "_He'll never hear nothing of what Eve found +out_!" + +"Quiet! Quiet!" I said, and took her hand. "He's only hurt. The +doctors will bring him around all right." + +"No," she said. "I've been foolin' with him. I've been wicked and +mean, and it's been sent to punish me." + +A house surgeon and the engulfing odor of iodoform met us at the door +of the emergency ward, whither we were led by a nurse. + +"We can't tell anything before tomorrow," answered the surgeon to my +question. "The pulse is fairly strong, and that means hope." + +"I must see him," the girl stated. + +"Sorry," said the surgeon, shaking his head. "No visitors allowed in +this ward at night." + +Two eyes, big and dark and beseeching, were raised to his. They shone +from the white face and plead with him. + +"Oh, doctor . . . _please_!" was all she said, but the eyes won her +battle. + +The nurse joined forces with the eyes. She looked past the surgeon. + +"Very few in here to-night, Doctor Brandt," she urged. + +"I wonder what would become of hospital rules if we left it to you +nurses!" he protested, as he stepped aside and gently drew the girl +within. + +Down the dim aisle between the snowy beds we went, until the surgeon +stopped at one, beside which sat a nurse, her fingers on the wrist of +the bandaged occupant. + +One bloodless hand picked feebly at the covering. The girl took this +in both her own and pressed it to her cheek. Then stooping even lower, +she cooed to the head on the pillow. + +"The Big Train's pulled in . . ." muttered a far voice from between the +bandages. + +"Railroad man--isn't he?" inquired the surgeon of me. + +"No. A horseman," I replied. + +"He talks about trains. Was it a railroad accident?" + +"He was injured by a horse called The Big Train," I explained. + +"Oh--that one," he said, enlightened. + +"Why don't they shoot him?" + +"They did," I said. + +"Good!" exclaimed the surgeon. "That is fine!" + +After taking the girl to her home, I sent telegrams to "Mr. Van," as I +had heard Blister call him--one to Morrisville, New Jersey, and one to +the Union Club, New York. Judge and Mrs. Dillon were abroad. + +When I had telephoned to the hospital the next morning, I went to the +office and found a message on my desk. It read: + +"Have everything possible done. Send all bills to me. He must come +here to convalesce." + + +It was headed Morrisville, and was signed, "W. D. Van Voast." + +That same day Blister was taken to a big, airy, private room with two +nurses in attendance. + +For a time it seemed hopeless. And then the fates decided to spare +that valiant whimsical spirit and Death drew slowly back. The stallion +had been unshod, and to this and the semi-darkness Blister owed his +life. + +I had met the girl frequently at the hospital and at last they told us +we could see Blister for a moment the next day. Ten o'clock was the +time set and as we sat in the visitor's room together, waiting, she +seemed worried. + +"You should be more cheerful," I said. "The danger is past, or we +would not be allowed to see him." + +"It isn't that," she replied. "I used to like horses. Now every horse +I see scares me to death." Then she hesitated and looked at me timidly. + +"Well," I encouraged, "that's natural, what of it?" + +"I've been thinking--" she said slowly, "every girl should like what +her husb--" she stopped and blushed till she looked like a rose in +confusion. + +"Oh, I see what you mean," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Since you +care for Blister, you feel that you should also be interested in his +profession." + +"That's it! You say things just right!" she exclaimed gratefully. + +"You will get over this dread of horses," I assured her. "Because +there are murderers in the world you do not fear all men. Occasionally +there are bad horses, just as there are bad people. You shouldn't +judge all the splendid faithful creatures who spend their lives serving +us, by one vicious brute." + +"Oh, I know that!" she said. "And I'll try as hard as ever I can to +get over it." + +"This is quite a little woman . . . she has developed," I thought. + +An unknown Blister with strange cavernous eyes, lay in the room to +which we were presently taken. I stood at the foot of the bed, +directly in his line of vision, but he did not seem to recognize me. +He looked through and beyond me. At last-- + +"Hello, Four Eyes!" came feebly from him. Slowly he became conscious +of the girl's face, looking down into his own. "You here, too?" he +questioned. + +"Yes, dear," she said tremblingly. + +The sight of the poor sick face was too much for her and she knelt +hastily to hide the tears. Then the round curve of her young bosom was +indented by his wasted shoulder as she bent and kissed him on the mouth. + +A woeful scar across his cheek reddened against the white skin. A +flash of the old Blister appeared in the hollow eyes. + +"There's class to that!" he said. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLISTER JONES *** + +***** This file should be named 19041.txt or 19041.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/4/19041/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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