370 RACEALONG 



The short, red-faced man's eyes twinkled and he 

 remarked to a friend who stood near him: "I like 

 that boy, and believe me he has sand. Why he told 

 me, not five minutes ago, that he didn't have money 

 enough to buy a sandwich, and I slipped him $20 — 

 and now, he's put the whole thing on his horse. I 

 think I'll take a swing at that field myself." 



''Get me a few of those fields," said the short, red- 

 faced man to the poolseller, 'I'll take all of them." 

 Favorite buyers picked up the offer in a flash, and 

 wanted more. 



Then some of the crowd in the betting ring wanted 

 to know why the short, red-faced man was backing 

 the field. 



Someone replied, "Oh he'd take a chance at any- 

 thing; there's nothing strange in this way of his. 

 He'll lose and he won't know it." 



"They're off!" came the shout. John Mitchell 

 never lifted his nose. He won by a length but as 

 Brusie pulled up one of the other horses struck 

 his sulky and wrecked it. 



Excitement ran high — and Harry was a bunch of 

 nerves running around trying to secure another 

 sulky. No one would lend him one. This the short, 

 red-faced man quickly discovered, 



"Keep quiet, boy," he remarked as Harry mopped 

 his sweat-covered face, "we'll get them yet" and he 

 disappeared. 



"Gee ! but I wish I had that sulky," Harry almost 

 sobbed ; as a brand new one drawn by a boy passed 

 his stall. 



