TOD SLOAN 



an outsider and I got her home comfortably. That 

 began a good season. 



A day or two after I was going by train to West- 

 chester from New York. I was reading the paper 

 taking no notice of anyone when a man opposite me 

 leaned over and said : " How did that filly run with 

 you the day before yesterday ? " 



Hardly looking up from my paper I cut him short 

 by answering : " All right I suppose," and went on 

 reading, intending to be silent if he put another 

 question. I had previous experience of being asked 

 things by strangers and I wouldn't have minded 

 showing a little bad manners if this stranger had 

 become too inquisitive. When I got out at West- 

 chester the stranger got out also. 



" I want to speak to you," was the next thing I 

 heard. It was the stranger, who then took a roll of 

 hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket and slipped 

 three of them into my hand : " I'm Mr MacDonald : 

 that was my filly you rode." 



I was taken aback of course and began to apologise 

 saying : " If I had known who you were of course I 

 wouldn't have been so rude." 



In reply Mr MacDonald put his hand on my shoulder : 

 " I like you all the better for it, and you can ride for 

 me whenever you like." 



That was the beginning of a long association, and I 

 think it was a regret to both of us when we fell out two 

 years later. It came about like this : There was a 

 three horse race at Sheepshead Bay. MacDonald had 

 a mare called, I believe. Intermission, and she had to 

 beat Hamilton and another named Clifford, a 100 to 1 

 on certainty. MacDonald thought he was sure to 

 be second with his. He got wind that " Pittsburg 

 Phil " was wagering heavily on Hamilton to beat his 



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