72 THE LIFE OP A RACEHORSE. 



"A little, very little, will do tlie trick," returned John 

 Sellusall. "I'll lay you two thousand five hundred to nothing 

 that our horse is landed the winner !" 



" Make it an even three thousand," returned Ned, in a dis- 

 contented tone, as if the amount fell considerably short of his 

 exiDectations. 



"Well, book it so," added our trainer, "and then you'll '* 



The lemon- visaged jockey drew the butt end of his whip 

 slowly from his mouth, and, winking his left eye, bent slightly 

 forward, and whisjDered, " Eope him." 



CHAPTER XIY. 



THE ROPING FOR THE ST. LEGER. 



How I never knew, but Harry Dale's suspicions became 

 roused, that, to use his own exj^ression, some screw was loose 

 with regard to the intention of permitting me to run on my 

 merits for the St. Leger, and acting in accordance with the 

 instructions he had received before entering upon his duties in 

 the training stable, he determined to communicate his mistrust 

 to the head of the family of the Tops without loss of time. 

 Kneeling before an inverted pail one morning, with a small 

 piiial of ink suspended by a piece of whipcord to a button-hole 

 of his jacket, and a broad sheet of paper spread and smoothed 

 with some care upon the temporary desk, Harry dipped the 

 point of a gray goose-quill into the bottle, combed back the 

 duck's tail with a disengaged hand, and, glancing at the ceiling 

 just above his head, knitted a brow and thus began : — " Dear 

 Guv'nor. Something's up, but what that somethuig is I don't 

 know. I'm almost certain, though, they don't mean it this time. 

 It's no use asking me why I think so, 'cause I could'nt tell if 

 you was to ; but mind what I say, get off all the rowdy down 

 to the last bless-ed mag. It isn't on the square, but quite 

 t'other, and some of 'em will be put in the hole, and so no more 

 at present from your 'umble servant." 



" There," said Harry, after perusing the epistle twice over 



