A GREAT HORSE 



There was a strong, cold wind — a wind so cold that 

 although the champion went some portions of the 

 mile at a two-minute rate, he did not have a wet hair 

 when he went under the wire. 



The crowd included many who are ordinarily not 

 attracted to the race track, however good the program. 

 There were present many well-known people from St. 

 Paul, Stillwater and other places in the state, while 

 Fargo. S. D., and other points equally distant were 

 represented. 



It was a great audience, and a wildly enthusiastic 

 one, and when Ketcharn and Cresceus appeared the 

 audience rose to their feet and cheered for several 

 minutes. Tim JNIurnen drove up the stretch with ]\like 

 The Tramp to accompany Cresceus, and also came 

 in for a share of the applause. After two scores, 

 Cresceus came down to the wire in fine style, and 

 Ketcham nodded for the word. The starting judge 

 cried "Go!" and the crowd said "Go" in a curious 

 mixture of feminine trehles and masculine basses. 

 Cresceus was off. It was a whirlwind clip. Glasses 

 were leveled on the champion, who traveled like a 

 miniature cyclone to the quarter. A thousand stop- 

 watches waited to mark the time at the first post. It 

 was a breathlessly interested throng. The flashing 

 of the white boots Cresceus wore was rhythmical as 

 the rise and fall of the bandmaster's baton, as he trot- 

 ted at a phenomenal rate of speed. There is only time 

 to breathe one good long breath between the wire and 



