RACEALONG 371 



*Hey, boy!'* came a shout, "here's where that 

 sulky is going" — and the short, red-faced man 

 pointed to John Mitchell's stall. 



''Say, mister," said Harry, as he stepped up to 

 the red-faced man, *1' ain't onto you at all. How is 

 it you take so much interest in me. I don't know 

 you, and you don't know me, and here I am hitched 

 into some one's new sulky, and can't pay for it if it 

 gets busted." 



"Well, boy, you're up against it and it's my way 

 — I've been rolled about in my day, also. Now get 

 after them, and good luck to you. Don't let them 

 get the pole from you going away." 



There was nothing to this heat, John Mitchell 

 went to the front and remained there to the finish. 



The red-faced man sauntered over to the Brusie 

 stable after the race. Dunbar was happy. He asked 

 if he had met Harry. 



''No," he replied, "and I want to see him before 

 he leaves." 



"And he wants to see you, too," replied Dunbar. 

 Say, we're both millionaires on that twenty and 

 Harry wants to divy with you. Here he is, now." 



"Well, Mister, here's your share, and I'm a thous- 

 and times" . 



"That's all right, boy, keep it and buy that sand- 

 wich you told about some time ago, and add this for 

 a good dinner," and the short, red-faced man pushed 

 a roll of bills into Harry's hand. "That sulky is 

 yours also — we won it today." 



"Well, I'll be"— 



