Evening Star Newspaper, January 2, 1921, Page 62

HIGH AND HANDSOME old Charlie Myers dled | In8 which Charlie absently beat his knee with the paper and Elizabeth sat he left young Charlle &[in deep thought. She was the to large, fat mortgage on the f{"“ ‘;I'E a ‘b:hnor ?lu;xuu ':: farm, & slim, starved-look- | {81 Ty father,” she foally anncunced “Charlie, wh: Ing lttle trotting flly and a knack |ready for (hat bis wesere ot 0 E° for handling horse flesh. Young | “About $500, altogether,” he replied, Charlie had a college education of his [ \S0KINE at her dully, wondering what % half inter- own acquisition, about $19 and an| “I'll give you $500 for overwheiming desirs to move Into|est in her winnings. if she has any." Muncle and marry Elizabeth Coates. - - This was towara the last of May. By | each n:::uln. L e et the first of June the mortgage, hav-| “Nothing doing,” said the boy, posi- Ing eaten everything else on the ) Vel place, swallowed the farm and young Charlie’s $19, leaving him the filly, he knack, the knmack. the education and the|,ne of his hands in her own. She sat overwhelming desire. + |looking at him, and the boy fdgeted Now, none of these four things is|under the guestion. exactly what a banker would call a| I, Wouldn't let you gamble that way.” he finally said. quick asset, and the first thing a| ‘“Then let me buy a half interest in banker wants to know is the nature |the colt.” and amount of your quick assets.| AS3inheshook hishead . o Elizabeth was the youngest daughter |pleaded. “You want to make a try for , of old Henry Coates of the First Na- | that big race and that money. 1 want tional Bank. The three older Coates |to try, too. If we lose we can stand it. girls had not doue very well. Henry |If we wis - Coates was positive that Elizabeth should make no mistake in a matri- hy nof ecause. ‘Who's your partner if I'm not?" she asked, reaching out and taking she demanded. monial way. When Charlie went to talk with him old Henry promptly scounted ~ Charlie’s horsemanship, his filly and his college education. As €or the desire, it was not listed as an asset In the first place. *You see. Charlie.” said Mr. Coates. Yeaning back in his swivel chair and clasping his hands over his stomach, “it wouldn't be fair to you. nor t Elizabeth either.” A lot of the boys conld fall in love with her easy envugh. What I'm waiting to see is a boy who can stay in love with her after he's found out what her bills are and has paid for them for a month or tw. ‘But, Mr. Coates— " Charlie pro- teste: “Wait 2 minute,” the banker con- “She’'s a_pretty girl. and Her upkeep You're all { tiemed. pretty girls come high. is something tremendous. right, and I like you, but you couldn’t support Elizabeth. “But—" Charlie was again sup- pressed. “J know what you're going to say. You've got a college education, and that's fine. What you ougkt to do is put it to work. Sell your little trot- ting filly and start yourself in busi- ness. When you can take care O th, come and talk to me again. If she hasn’t found another boy by that time.” he added, maliciously winking at the youngster. “Well, I will.” said Charlie deter- inedly, sticking out his lower jaw, nd she won't Sore af heart, Charlie got up and ook his hat. “Xf I can do anything to help you, al on me,” said Mr. Coates. “Thank you.*“was Charlie’s spoken reply. To himgelf he added the com- ment: “At § pericent, not renewable.” i But it was hard to dislike Mr. Coates, hers, and they were silent again for a time. Presently she spoke. “And we'll not say a word to anybody about it, will we? That night young Charlie wrote a letter to the ‘editor of the tern Horseman, and the next day he moved into Muncie. JInstead of stopping in town he drove the filly out across White River to the fair grounds and found lodgings in one of the long, low barns at the head of the stretch. * %k x X THAT was the second week in June. Summers in Indiana are long, and hot, and for the sake of comfort it is Jjust as well to shift the clock to Sep- tember, the scene to Indianapolis. Thursday is no Jonah day at the state fair. It is, rather, a whale of a day because every Hoosier with more than a passing interest in a horse, a Pig, & cow, a maeep, a hen, a turnip, or any other old thing that grows or is grown on an Indiana farm s bound the visits it owes Indianapulis. They get up soon and herd alwng three street-car lines to the grounds right after breakfast, because there is much to be seen and more to be done. Be- over the stock, inspect the new riding plows, and find out who married the youngest Purviance girl, to say noth- ing of thrashing out the political sit- uation a few times at some length. At noon there is still standing room in the big grandstand on the south l f Elizabeth's father, | 1 old fellow. As he | Sid Tie heard Mr. | Coates calling him, and when he un- ‘derstood the banker's question, even the resentment softened somewhat. e of the track, but at 1 o'clock there is little more than standing room in the length and breadth of the grounds. The trotting and pacing horse barns are in three groups. the first group back of the grandstands, and the sec- ond huddling around the first turn. The third is a half mile away, across the infield, outside the far turn. Resi- dent horsemen use the first group of barns, and early comers and big out- fits commanding ‘money and influence get into the second. The little fel- “Stepping +Charlie_repli “I hear shi yer. “But g sald,the bank- take my advice persisted st to show I'd like ahead, I'll buy that 1 give you $300 for hat you take the it to get yourself of some kind. What do you jout answering. or the family, is too big a s Summer and a lot of money getting ready .o race when she may mot trol &t ¥II fof the races. 1 You can se the 3380 " Charlie shook,,bin ead-andygmrned to_leave the “Think it over, called after hiny The boy went down the steps bluer than any debtor with a. past-due note called in a tight place. He walked as if his whole future had been fore- closed. He could not part with the She was worth more than Mr. Coates offered. Charlie, pondering ELis problem, found himself nearing the Coates home for consolatfon. Elizabeth, sitting on a big porch swing. | greeted him img. ~ “If it isn't old Charles Gloony$ up, Mr. Gloom, 1and let me cry with you a while.” she { called as he approached the house. “Gloom,” said Charlie, “is my middle ! name. You'd be gloomy, too, if you'd lost what I've los “And what have you lost?" she asked, motioning him to a seat in the swing. “I've’ just been to see your fathei said Charlie. “I've lost his daughter. “Pooh, and two. poohs,” Elizabeth re- torted. “I guestion your statement two ‘ways, young man. In the first place, can you fose what you have not had? | In the second place, have you really lost her?” e smiled a wan smile, which wideried into a grin. “‘No' answers | both questions.” he declared. The girl's | bubbling good nature and heartenin smile made the day over for him. “But, | Elizabeth, I've sure got to get out and | | , and | been | ‘Then he of- i couldn’t start more than a peanut | stand with what he offered—$§300. vorth mere than that as a buggy harlie, I'm ashamed of dad. The * * x % THE two sat in silence for & time before she spoke again. “Charlie, ‘what are you going to do?” The boy shook his head. “What do you want me to do?" For answer he reached into an inner coat pocket and brought forth @ much-thumbed copy of the Western Horseman. On the front-cover page ‘was a picture of old Charlie Myers, in cap and jacket, up behind a great black horse. The boy turned the cover and fumbled through the pages until he found a story of his father death. pointed to the last paragraph of the 'Nothing left now of the stable that Charlie Myers used to race across the land except one trottifig filly, a daughter of his great old Loveless, son of Lockheart, out of Love N This filly has & right to be as fast as anybody’s brother, for her dam was Lady Anderson, the i tle Anderson Wilkes mare that was famous & few years back as a ‘guide- Jess wonder.’ If she has the Lock- hieart courage that carried Loveless through many a hot battle and the #peed of the Anderson Wilkes family this filly may well be heard from. It ix hard to predict what will become ©f her, but her present owner should he advised that she is still eligibie for the Great Western stake for three- to be there from 9 o'clock on un dark. Seven railroads and four interu 7| bans bring the folks in for Thursday, and state pays back ali at once, fore the racing starts on the big mile track at 1 o'clock they must look 1i@"" Mr. Coates = to'clock {ceedings. Folding back the paper, he|™ lows, one-horse guys and those who cannot reach the ear of the super- intendent, swarm into the third, a half mile from the judges' stand. In the farthest cormer of the far- thest barn, in the smallest and cheap- est stall on the grounds, this Thurs- o1y of the Great’ Western stake for three-year-old trotters found young Charlie Myers and his filly by Love-| less-Lady Anderson. Charlie was his'i own staff of swipes and trainers. sides the filly, he had one old much- used sulky of the style popular in training days, but impracticable for the races. It borrowed the new pneu- matic tires and small wheels of odwn times and added them to the long shafts and low-swinging seat of the old-fashioned sulky. Instead of stretching his feet out to stirrups on the shafts, and sitting high over the horse’s hips, the driver using this type of cart sat back behind the animal, and rested his feet on a little plat- form shaped like a basket. It rode comfortably, but was too heavy for arlie accosting old Harry Wright, venerable colored trainer for the ~Claypools of Muncie, about 1 in _ the bnnernoe “Say Harry.” said the boy, “are you too bunyym give me a little help this aft- ernoon?’ “Lawd, no. boy,” the negro answer- ed. “Ah ain’ got nuthin' to do till to- morruh, when ole gwine trot Alan in th* twelve class.’ ‘Wish you'd help me out then,” said Charlie. “Suhtainly, glad to,” old Harry de- clared. “Boy!” he called. “Oh, boy! Keep yo' eye out fo' Mist’ C|lyvlool When he comes tell ‘im Ah'm roun’ th' cohnah, with young Mist’ Myahs. AR’ll go with you right now. suh,” he concluded, addressing Charlie. The two of them hunted out Charlie's stall, and llold Hll‘{’fi!r;‘r:t e assumed charge O = cadiny He dellve;l‘d lt‘llmlll(m:((’: scornful oration within two m! after he entered the all. “Whut y'all gwine d ve "at filly to that big plow theah? Aincha got a little bike? Looka that bridle, blinduhs big as mah hat! Boy, whut y'all need is a complete set o' ‘quipment. Looky- heal An'1l l‘l‘:’n ‘le(p:h t E in’ "spect tha z v!v‘a::n rmvln' th' track and win a rac t further ado, and absolutely lcnwo‘r‘lln;;“younf Charlie, the old darky fussed away from the stall. Young Charlie sat down on & buckdt upturn- ed at the door of his stall. The flly had worked out nicely, trotting two slow miles, and winding up about noon with & third, in which she step- ped out a good clip for the last hal Nervous and ill at ease as the n“ for the event approached, Charlly fumbled in @ hip pocket and brough out a score card. It was open an folded back at the page listing start- s in the Great Western stake fof three-year-old trotters. Here is W/ ke saw: 1. M: Vo vy Fox. . ven " bay filly, by Loveless-La: i Lovely hfl!w Charles Myers, ir., Mancie, Ind. Ton- Hamlive, Mini Charlie realized he was con- frznowlll“ a most formidable '“Mll °'Jm All that he had t 1 1 as & smart I age was pitting th ultra-modern of champions. ese against two colts of breeding from families with two drivel",l °'t;|2: v t rank. Charlie hoped, ra Than nerx.pe('t:d, to win this trotting classic in the face of a forlorn pros pect. One of less courage, or one playing for smaller stakes, would 0,000-0 e il afternoon expected year-old trotters, to be raced at the|fair ground that dndiana state fair next fall. This stake will be worth over $6.000." Elizabeth followed h‘Iim llh'hon‘h the aragraph_and gasped with amaze- Prents an he finished the last sen- tence. “Charlie Myers! Do you mean to say they pay $6.000 for winning a race?” she demanded. “Not quite,” he answered. “Only about $4.060 to the winner. It's one of the biggest races in the country.” he_explained. “Well, 1 never dreamed I clared. Then an inspirat im to win, and only one other per- B ‘was doing any job at all of hoping. This other one person was little Elizabeth Coates, whose banker father was determined she should . Her father's chance ol is wish realised may be meas- Ured by the fact that Elisabeth had Jeft Muncie that morning unchaper- oned, except by a parasol, and come down to mingle with the atate fair crowds by herself. Blithely tripping along as if the dust of the fair ground were as clean her. “Why, Charlie. why don't You as a ballroom floor, she appeared in set ready and win that race {front of the disconsolate Charlie “Elizabeth, that's easy. Because I!studying his score card. haven't got enough nickels 10 keep| Lizabeth!” he exclaimed, starting me in bacon and eggs and the fillvito his feet. “What are you doing In oats. until the day of *he race. Ask | here?" me something hard,” said the boy,; “Didn’t think I was going to let, bitterly. you come all the way down here to “But could she win?" win_this big race all by yourself, did “That's the hard one” Charlie re-|you? she asked. plied, smiling a little. “Father said | “But I thought we ‘you ought not to come.” sald Charlle. “T'll go back.” she threatened “Don’l tease. I'm awfully glad you've #he ought, and I think she can. She sure can trot.” ®havg was an awkward silence, dur- L JANUARY 2, 192I1=PART 4. A Story by Jonathan Brooks IN THE NEXT BOX SOMETHING WAS SAID ABOUT AN OPEN BRIDLE—AND THE GIRL SAT BOLT UPRIGHT. come. You'll see us rise or fall, and everything,” he said. “Are we going to win?” Elizabeth asked. “I'm all excited. “Girl, you've got nothing on me. But listen, have you got a Seat in the ndstand?” ‘One box seat, one dolla plied. “I charge it to the fir *“That's fair enough.” He joined her | infectious mirth. “It's worth it, and then some, to have you down heré. “How's the little lady?” the gir) de- manded. “Where is she s d The filly's black nose and brown| head were thrust through the open upper -half of the door to the stall as she spoke, and Elizabeth .squealed with delight, “She heard me asking for her, didn’t you, pet?” she de- clared, turning to rub the mare's nose. * % ¥ ¥ HARLIE turned and stood beside her. Neither of them heard or saw ghe approach of old Harry Wright, returning laden with har- ness and dragging a span-new bike behind (him. He was muttering to himeelf as he shuffied along. “Reckon these yere things will just about take keer—fo' de Lawd's sake! Whut is this, a pahty?’ The old darky dropped the harness and stood | fill staring. Charlie and Elizabeth turned to face him. ‘This little tableau was broken in upon by the track marshal, who came galloping along the row of stalls on a little pony, shouting: “Mister Myers! Mister Myers. Bring on your three- year-old trotter! Call for the stake trotters. “All right,” answered Charlie, wav- ing acknowledgement of the sum- growled old Harry. with th' rest o' th’ Jus. y Elizabeth kissed her finger and laid it on the filly’s soft nose for luck. then turned and set off through the dust toward the grandstand. Charlie watched her out of sight, but old Harry bustled into the preparations for the race. *Time we wound up these yere s'ciety affaihs,” he grum- bled. “Y'all got a race on yo' hands, not a pink tea. Filly all ready t' hahness? Look whut I brung ovuh frm Mist Claypools bahn. The old darky had a complete new met of harness, and waving aside Charlie's questions and mild protests, started skillfully to work to fit it to the little mare. Charlie reached to a peg _on the stall wall for the old bridle he had used all summer on the filly, but old Harry insisted on putting on a new open bridle. “Ah've seen this filly wuhk, an’ she ain’ gwine ack bad jus’ because she got a new bridle. *At ol’ bunch o' leathuh with th’ big .| blinduhs weah huh haid off in two | heats,” he declared, positively. The new open bridle-was put on, and the bike was brought up. Charlie put on an old gray jacket and gray cap that had been his father’s, while old Harry ‘was swinging a blanket over the filly and the party set off for the track. ©Old Harry led the filly with one hand and carried & dripping sponge in the other. Lovely Lady &rod gingerly through the dust, casting her pretty head from side to side as best she could under the darky’s grasp. She was decidedly nervous, as might be expected of any three-year-old _appearing in the tate fair babel for the first time. Charlie, outwardly calm, was inward- ly just as excited as the filly. Old Harry, plodding along in the dust be- tween them, anchored both to earth. He kept up a constant stream of talk. “Lissen, boy. Don’ yo' pay no 'ten- tien to nuthin’ on that track but this yere filly. So, gubly, so, so. Easy now. Aln' nuthin’ in this yere racin’ but Yown hoss. All y'got to do is look wheath th' front is, 'men go theah, f|straight. Don’ pay no 'tention to th' othuh drivuha Don’ pay no ’tention to theah hosses. Jus® y'all look wheah laughed, nervously. ‘When they reached the head of the stretch they found they were the last to appear for the race. Mark hite w: ready out with Patchen Dillon. a had warmed up with a turn or two in front of the stands. Longshot Billy Fox had clambered up behind Mack Toddles and was start- ing through the stretch for a breather. jte and Patchen Dillon, a fine- looking colt that seemed to combine the Patchen power with the Dillon speed., round upon round of applause. White was popular, and Indianapolis was the original home of lall the Dillons. When Fox charged =l the stretch with the sturdy, steady-going little bay, Mack Toddles, he, too, drew agenerous hand, arlie swung a leg over the bike, grg‘m—d the reins and straddled his feet in the stirrups as old Harry lift- ed the blanket off the filly. Settling himself in his’seat, tightening the lincs, and leaning forward over the s hips, he spoke to her reas- suringly. Lovely' Lady set off down the stretch on a timid, tentative trot. | Her nerves were on edge, for she had never seen such crow: Such noises. By the time she reached judges’ stand she found the crowds stayed outside the fences and learned the noises were not directed at her. The boy clucked to her, and she stepped out bravely enough to the first turn. Coming back up the stretch in leisurely fashion, Charlie let her have her head to turn from side to side and examine the strange scenes. As they passed the stands the youthful pair drew some ap- plause. It came from a little group nor heard at the pole, Lovely Lady stepping be- side him somewhat nervously, and Patchen Dillon straining and fighting for his head on the outside. It was a perfect start. “Go!" yelled the judge. The crowd echoed his shout and rose to its feet with® the hum and roar that always sends off the fleld in a big race. Young Charlie was congratulating himseif that the filly was getting away well, when the crowd's noise and the speed of the trotters beside her unnerved Lovely Lady and she went to a wild, flighty break. Mack Toddles and FPatchen Dillon passed her like two express trains and head- | ed for the first turn fighting for the lead. Charlie pulled the filly down as | quickly as he could, but working as gently as possible to prevent getting her even more excited. When she began trotting again she had reached the turn and no longer had to face the crowds and hear their racket. Under the boy’'s soothing voice she “SHE’S A PRETTY GIRL, AND PRETTY Gm’::; COME HIGH,” SAID THE of horsemen, near the rail, who had known Charlie’s father, and from a box in the front row of the grand- stand where one girl was sitting. * X ¥ ¥ I there had been any betting that day, the play would have been pn Patchen Dillon and Mack Toddles to win, with perhaps a nickel on Lovely Lady. But there was no betting be- cause the vice president, now known for a sense of humor, was then a governor, known for an abhorrence of gambilng. The race, therefore, was for two things. The stake amounted to approximately $6,000, of which the winner was to receive $3,500, the sec- ond horse $1.400 and the third $800. There was the first incentive. The second lay in the fact that fast colt trotters are always in demand among racing men and breeders, and bring high prices. White and Fox raced to win and raced to sell to million- aires. Three-year-olds in those days sold for as much as $10,000 to $15.000. Either amount buys a lot of oats to raise 4 lot more colts to sell to more millionaires. The starting judge ealled the three drivers to the foot of the judges' stand after they had warmed up their two or three times. “Now, and it may be hard to get awa he said. “But we've got a long card, and this race is three heats itself. Let's try to get oft, carly. Fox, vou're at the pole with Mack Toddles, and White, you're outside with your Dillon colt. Mr. Myers, that leives you in the middle. Now, boys, let's go The three jogged up to the six- teenth post and wheeled to jockey for the start. times before they squared away and headed for the wire. When they did start trotting the three were on even terms, Mack Toddles trudzinz alonz They turned three | dl ING TREMENDOUS.” settled to her task and shot out with a lithe, swift' stride. But by this time Mack Toddles and Patchen Dil- lon were ten good lengths in front and trotting like two young demons, Young Charlie smiled to himself ‘grimly and remembered old Harry's advice: “Look wheah th’ front is, 'nen go _theah.” ‘Turning into the back stretch, Lovely Lady had not gained an inch on the flying colts ahead, but she had settled to a speedy, even elip that promised to make up lost ground. The boy realized he must force the. filly or fail to get up in time to keep from being distanced in the first heat and shut out of the money altogether. On the other hand, he feared .to rush her too much and throw her into an- other break. ‘He chose to drive. Settling down to work with hand and voice, he coaxed and urged Lovely Lady to better and better efforts. The game little filly responded ngbly, and, comforted by the boy's soothing, quieting voice, lost all her wild de- sire to run out of the grounds. ‘When Fox and White slowed up with Mack Toddles and Patchem Dillon for the far turn, Lovely Lady had cut the ten lengths down to four and was gain- ing rapidly. When they swung into the home stretch the lead was down to two length: At this point the gaining ceased. White, on the outside, began his drive with Patchen Dillon. The big sorrel colt pulled ahead for an instant, but only for an Instant. Fox, not to be caught napping, started hand driving j with Mack Toddles, and the little bay colt, like a machine, worked up to even terms. More, he forged ahead. Here Patchen Dillon went to pleces and jumped into a wild running break, White pulled him out to the right of the tracl leaving ‘an opening beside. Mack Tod- es. * ¥ ¥ * YOUNG CHARLIE set sail for this opening with Lovely Lady, the filly answering his call with the best burst of apeed she had vet shown. Halfway to the wire she had thrust her brown head past Fox’s shoulder and was gain- ing_with every stride. Young Charlie haif rose in his seat and fairly flung the little mare along. Five lengths from home he had her head and head with Mack Toddles, the two fighting like the little thoroughbreds they were. A roar of voices from the grandstand arose to urge her on, and a staccato burst of handclapping greeted the game fight she was making. The noise and the sight of the great masses of people suddenly unnerved the filly, and she once more left her feet in a frantic galiop. Mack Toddles stuck mechanically to his trotting, and went under the wire a winner. Fox breathed igh of relief, for he had seen first place melting from his grip. Young Charlie, overwrought from' the nerv ng drive he had made under such the verge of crying. Sure of second place, he pulled the mare down slowly. while White was bringing Patchen Dil- lon along in plenty of time to beat the distance flag. Dismounting after coming back to the judges’ stand to salute, Charlie was warmly welcomed v Wright, “Bo; *“sho’ c'n drive,” the old bubbling over with pride. “And, this yere 1l filly cn sho' trot. a tremendous handicap, was, boylike, on | If it hadn’t been for him, you'd Bave won these other two h " “Why, Elizabeth, how's that?* Charlie gsked anxiously. ““He's been a lot of Yes, but he made you put that open bridic on her. and ‘she "can see all around, 's what gets her ex- cited. She always breaks in front of the grandstand, where she sees the big crowds. Maybe I don't know much about horses, but I know that was a mistake.” ‘That old harness is awfully heavy said_Charlie. “Yes, but she’s used to it. She's not used 10 that new bike. It scares her. You're sitting 'way up there, high over her hips, and leaning over her. When she gets to going fast, she thinks the bike is running up on her and is going So she runs to get Elizabeth finished her outburst completely out of breath. Charlie rose and went to a pump a few steps distant, bringing back a tin cup of icy cold water. When she had fin- ished drinking and taken a long breath, | Charlie said: ‘Girl, 1 don’t know how you know these things or why I didn't think of them myself. You're dead right on both of them. Next time out we'll wear the old rigging.'” He spoke positively. Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief. “If we can win this race——" said. “And if we sell Lovely Lady—" he added. “Girl, we've got lo win ti race. she * x % % I\ HILE Elizabeth, a little later, was H on her way back to the grand- th' mostest foot Ah evuh see. O ftost half and th' Iastest [Stand Charlie had a tremendous strug- (hree-qua'tuhs in ‘at ole race. Heah |gle to convince old Harry he should these vere folks" Waving an arm gran-igo back to the old cart and the blind diloquently at the crowds, “rise up and |y 310 Byt when the colts came out ah when y'all come down th' stretch? Wel for the third and last heat, Elizabeth Well ‘em mnext time out Chablie «lid off the bike and, sick at!thrilled to see Charlie in the old sulky. The filly seemed to feel at heart, trudged along beside the dari up the track and around the turn toward |home. Lovely Lady, instead of presenting their barn. 4 ftting in her box, Elizabeth worried [the trig. trim appearance of the first her curly head whether she should go|two heats, looked like a slim little out fo the stall again to try and com-!daughter in mother's big sunbonnet fort and cheer the boy. She knew she |and bungalow apron. The blinders would be in the way, but she wanted to |stood out like mule ears. Charlie. holp if she could. Something was|sitting at ease with his fect in the wrong, she felt sure, for Lovely Lady |basket, instead of up on the stirrups Was not accustomed to break and run|of the shafts. seemed half a block 25 she had done twice in that heat. |back. Both boy and and filly were While she was trying to decide what [glad for the change to their everyday to do, two men entered the next box |outfit. The crowd scarcely noticed and sat down to talk with a prosper-lthe change. It was interested in the Sus-looking business man seated there. [decisive battle between Mack Toddles 7t seemed that they were friends of Gen. [and Patchen Dillon. Fox and Mark Quarles, the owner of Mack Tod-|White looked over the revised ap- Tlizabeth pricked her ears and |pearance, and both figured the change decided to stay where she wa meant that the boy was out simply “An hour later the colts came qut again |to finish_inside the distance flag and for their second mile. This tithe Char- |thereby third money. Each decided lis decided to force things from theihis problem was merely to beat the start. A break by Mack Toddles at the |other. far turn left the race between Lovely | The judge did not keep them long Lady and Patchen Dillon. The pairiat the start. They got away briskly rushed down to the wire only a head |Patchen Dillon at the pole fought to apart, and once more the great crowds {get his head free and trot a mile a Tose with a roar to cheer them on. minute. Mack Toddles, moving with Charlie suddenly sensed~disaster de-|the machine-like precision bred in his te his lead of inches. He tightened |family, was on the outside. These p on the reins and called to the |two shot away in front. Lovely Lady, filly in a soothing voice, but ten yardsion her best behavior, nosed com- P \he “wire the excitement proved |fortably along. looking over White's harindoing, Once more she broke into ighoulder. The filly was not tossing e Omiing, hysterical run. _Patchen her head from side to side, but look- Dilion won_the heat, and again YOUNgling straight in front and trotting Charlie had to be content with second |right after her nose. The terrific clip place, Mack Toddles coming in a faif icarried to the far turn. Here all third, The time of the mile was 2073 lthree glowed perceptibly for an in- To the on- i P izabeth Coates was ready to ¢ and would have cried in any spot le: public than the front of the grand- stand. She ‘watched the downcast Charlie plodding off the track beside old Harry and the filly, shaking his head in despair. A desire to cross the grounds and see the boy, to en- courage him as best she could, moved her to leave. But just as she was ris- ing to make her excuses a man came into the next box and asked for Mr. She stayed where she was ieeping an ear open for the talk by It looked to be a forlorn hope for the | stant’s breathing spell. looker there was nothing to indicate that the race was not between the two colts. When the three had passed the three- quarters pole the race took on a new complexion. Charlie pulled out slight- ly from behind White and. Patchen Dil- lon without losing a stride or an inch. He worked his way around to the right until Lovely Lady's nose was beside Fox’s right shoulder. As they headed into the home he called on the filly, and she stepped out easily. Charlie hustled her along until her head was at the hip of Mack Toddles. There he tween the two men. hing Was | held her for a few stridea. harryiny the said about an‘ 6pen bridle, and the|other two into beginning their final girl sat bolt upright. She rose and|drives earlier than they wished. Fox, walked hurriedly out of her box and|giancing over his shoulder, saw made almost as good time getting to|filly coming. ‘He cut loose with Charlie's_stall as Lovely Lady could | Toddles. White went to it with Patchen | have made herself. Dillon, and for another furlong the two “Charlie, oh, Charlie,” she cried.|fought each other like demons. Charlie half running, and arriving at the door | held Lovely Lady easily at Fox's stirrup of the stall all out of breath. “Listen. | until they reached the distance flag. Is it too late to win the race?” “Come on, Lady, come on, come on," “Hello, girl,” the boy replied, look- | Charlie called and sang to the filly, eas- ing up with a wan smile. He was|ing his hold on the reins and flapping wrapping a foreleg in flannel, to keep { them ever so lightly over her hips. The the tendons warm until the next heat. | little mare shot forward as if she had “No, it isn't too late, but it begins to|been merely walking. In four strides ilook like it's too big a job. she was head and head with the other “Sho we can still win,” spoke up old | two, and in four more a neck in front. Harry, rubbing down the filly's heav- | trotting like wildfire, the old harnees ing sides. “Them othuh coits got a|flapping and the old eulky bounding fust and a_thuhd aplece, and we got |along behind. Fox and White went to two seconds. This yere's a thfee-|the whip. Patchen Dillon tore his heat race, an' if we win next time |handsome sorrel head up to even terms, 6ut we win the race. Plain’s th’ nose|but could not hold the clip. He fell on mah face!” he added, chuckling. |back inch by inch. Mack Toddles made “Charlie, we've got to win. We've [his bid in honest fashion. but just as Fox reached out to throw his colt under the wire, Charlie made his own last ef- fort. “Girl, girl, girl.” he called. The little filly fairly flew under the wire, her nose a good ten inches in front of Mack Tod- dles. Patchen Dillon’s sorrel head could not have been more than a hand' breath back. The time was 2.06 flal a new world record for three-year-old trotting fillies. ¥ When Lovely Lady came jogging de- murely back to the judges’ stand in her old blind bridle and clumsy sulky, the crowds rose and gave her an ovation. 2 : A hysterical girl in a grandstand box Lady. ‘was laughing and crying. Her impulse was to go down to the track and throw her arms about the filly’s neck and then about Charlie's. Just as she had dried her eyes, dabbed at her npse, and risen to leave she saw the strangers who had called at Mr. Rouse’s box between heats thpeading their way through the crowds toward him again. She drew a long breath, lifted her nose, thrust out her chin, and instead of going down steps to the track turned in at the gate of the Rouse box ahead of the strangers. * %k *x ¥ MEANWHILE 2 prosperous Muncie banker was having a hard time persuading the track police that he should be permitted to go out on the track to congratulate young Charlie. A dollar succeeded where his words had failed, and Mr. Coates went through the gate and off up the track after the jubilant boy, the old darky and the tired filly. He overtook them after a chase of an eighth of a mile, enlivened by ribald cheers from the railbirds. “Oh, Charlie,” he called, out of breath, as he came Within earshot. “Oh, boy! Say, that—that—that wi certainly fine. I'm proud of you, patting Charlie on the back and then linking arms_ with the surprised BANKER. “HER UPKEEP IS SOME- . “You didn't know I was here “Why—why—no, 1 didn’t” said “But I'm glad you ssw us. Some race, wasn't it?” “Sure was. Too bad Elizabeth The boy rose from the filly's feet, | couldn't 'have seen it." found a water bucket, and upturned| Charlie looked at him in surprise, it at the A-~r of the stall as a seat|but held his tongue. The boy was for Elizabeth. | half_hysterical still. ‘He had hugged “We'Ve naw to all alon old Harry and kissed the filly's nose grimly. “Why, especially, on the precise spot where Elizabeth BOt to win now’ had laid her finger. And he “ChMlie, do you know, how much |yearned to do a cakewalk from wire the colt that wins this race is worth?” | to wire, being restrained only by the “If jt's Lovely Lady, or some colt|necessity of taking the Slly back to sthat can beat Lovely Lady—a whole tering to her tired 1ot of money,” he answered quizzical- 1y, - “Why?" “Maybe it's more money than you know,” said Elizabeth. “Let me tell iyou. 'There's a millionaire in the box next to mine. He’s Arthur Rouse, from Philadelphia. After the first| heat some friends of the owner of Mack Toddles came to see Mr. Rouse, and they were hinting at $12,000. I heard everything they said. And just Just got to,” the girl declared ex- citedly, e sald have we to the gate at the far turn end went out toward the barns. Arrived at the stall, Charlie and old Harry pitched in to ease and soothe the exhausted Lovely Lady, rubbin her dry with flannel cloth and mae: {saging the aching muscles with oin! ments. The banker fidgeted helpless- ly about, and finally, to make himself useful, picked up a water bucket and k, | doors to the cooling-out rings, now, after Patchen Dillon won, an- other man came up and they talked some about $15,001 . “Good Lord!” the boy exclaimed. He sat down suddenly on a bale of hay and took off his cap to fan him- self. “I supposed $5,000 was a whale of a price.” They gazed at one another a mo- ment in great excitement before the boy broke tension. Oh, he said, “it's easy to see we've got to. But it’s another job to figure how. Anyway, he wouldn’t pay any such fancy price for Lovely Lady. He ‘wants a colt.” S “I don’t see why not,” Rlizabeth re- torted. “And, what's more, I'm_going to tell you, and you, too, ir. Harry, inging’ a remark at the old darky as he led the filly, wakmly blanketed, out- ‘how to ‘Whether you believe me or not.” . “Whut y’all know ’bout hoss racin’ old Harry asked, passing on in high disdain without awaiting her reply. “Charlie, that old nigger's-too smart! win this old race. started for the pump. As he came struggling back with the water he ‘was astonished to see Elizabeth ap- proaching through the dust, holding the arm of a distinguished-looking business man of middle age. He al- most dropped the bucket. The girl was unruffied. “Hello, dad,” she said, cheerfully. “Enjoying yourself?’ “What are you doing here?” h asked without answering her question. He felt somewhat at a disadvantage. caught with a bucket of water out- ide a horse barn. It was no situa- gracious attitude, “I want you to meet Mr. Arthur Rouse of Philadelphia. Mr. Rouse, this Is my father. You wouldn't think he was president of the First National Bank. would you?" The men shook hands, Mr. Rous pleasantly, b.l;: Mr. Coates still some- hat in 5 Vi Where's Charlie? asked Elisabeth. In the StallT" Ehe started toward the 11 de SiWalt a minute” interposed Mr. *T11 call bim." He en’ a moment Charlie emerged, cap snl{cltl’:u and his sleeves rolled up tus ws. his e ™ he exclatmed wabmiy. th R ‘We've been talking over thé HoRsi2 - bility of buying Lovely Lad3Meanid ¢ Elizabeth to young Charlie, still smilm Ing at the merchant. He nodded con- firmation, but the boy was taken sud- He blinked, shook his head. and brought up like a pastured" pony reaching the end of its rope after a_playful gallop. Part with Lovely Lady after their race? boy was plainly bewildered. “Why—why—" he stammered, turn- ing panicky. It was as if_he had asked to give up an arm. Elizabeth seeing that he had lost all thought of parting with the little filly, started talking. “You remember.” she said, “that we were talking before the race of sell- ing Lovely Lady afterward? Mr. Rouse and I went over the situation and we have agreed that Lovely Lad: was the best in the race. He is clined to buy her if you can agree on a_price. He thought $5.000 a fair offer, because he wanted a colt. But, Charlie. 1 argued that $12,000 is Dot too much for 4 world champion Aty ! The ell 1 what 1'll do.” Rouse de- clared. “I'll give you $9.000 for the filly right now. We can compromise, can we not?" * % % ¥ I_{E looked at the girl expectantiy, but she was looking at Charlie. The boy was avoiding her gaze and shaking his head slowly. It was a forlorn picture. “But, Charlle,” said Elizabeth, anx- iously, “that business proposition for which you wanted the money?" He still shook his head. The girl put her hands on his shoulders and iocked imploringly at him, while Rouse stood embarrassed. “Of course, he said. “if you would like to consider the offer—but no, 1 can’t do that. I really want a colt, not a filly, any- how, and I'll have to speak quick on one of those others. If you would rather keep the filly, I shan't insist/ Perhaps you'd like to talk it over be tween yourselves?” El beth looked at him gratefully turned to go. “If you make up your minds to sell, look me up,” he said. “I'll be in town until § o'clock.” As Mr. Rouse walked away Eliza- eyes filled with tears of morti- fication. Charlie had been standing by the wall of the barn throughout the scene, and was now leaning one shoulder against it, his head hang- ing in dejection. “Charlie,” she said, softly. takim his face in her hands and lifting b head. “Charlie, can’t you give her up?” He loked dumbly at her, but did not answer. “Then we won't sell,” Elizabeth de- clared with an air of finality. “That settles it. We won't sell, so don't you worry about it any longer. Mr. Rouse can just buy one of those other colsa At this functure Mr. Coates came out of the stall, preceding old Harry and the blanketed filly. “What's this, what's this? he de- manded, bantering. 4 “We have just turned down l’.o.‘ for Lovely Lady, Elizabeth said. “What!” the banker shouted in amazement. He frightened the filly, which sidestepped gingerly and land- ed on Harry's foot. The darky echoed the banker's shout.. “You mean to tell meé, excldimed Mr. Coates, grabbing the boy by the shoulder, “that you refused $9, x Charlie nodded. The banker was stupefied. This was the same pig-headed boy that had re: fused his $300 three months before. He was seized with sudden resolu- *T1l not have it.” he declared. “Somebody’s got to teach you sense.” He set off in great agitation, while old Harry disappeared with Lovely Lady toward the cooling-out rings. “Charlie” sald the girl, “never mind. o M = % % “THE boy lool 4 up again, a tear 1 1 each eye. The day had been too much for him, with its race, its ree- ord. its big purse, its tremendous sale price, and its girl. “Listen, Charlie” she whispered, We can wait a “Newer you mind. year or two, and you can keep Lovely ‘The boy looked at her sharply, roused out of musing. “What do you mean, wait a year or two? he de- manded. She avoided his gaze for a moment, and then young Charlie re- himself. Why didn’t you tell me what I was talking about?” “I couldn’t have been much more brazen about it than I was.” she an- sewered, suddenly shy. ot much more.” “We certainly won't wait a year or two. I've waited nine years this sums mer, as it is. We'll sell. I love ti Lovely Lady, bless her heart, and h world's record, but—we’ll sell, that's all there is to i They were smiling in agreement as Mr. Coates came back to them bust- ling in triumph. He wiped his face, with a handkerchief and radiated good humor and excitement. “Well that's settled,” he said briskly. * step ont high and handsome myself on occasion, and when I do I bring home—what do_you young folks call it? The bacon?’ He laughed. “The filly’s sold” firmky., watching the effect of his statement. But from that point on he began to stumble. “She's sold for $10,000, pot for $9,000. It takes—i! takes a business man to handle thing like this and get the most out of it. I—uh—I undertake to deliver ... 1 guarantes to deliver her He was getting into deep water. 0w T lf:lcflik. to deliver the flly in i return tor‘:l‘- eftm” check. ‘T t::‘.‘ i im I coul o because, ahem, o Charlie, Ellsabeth— Elizabeth—oh, damn They laugbed w 1971, Printed by areangemen wih ':ér.-mm-—r Service.] - .o 0 Jeffersonian Reminiscence. - EFFERSON WINTER, at the Play- 5o ers’ Club, was marrating remi- 15v niscences of his godfather, the famous® 17| Joseph Jefferson. “Jefferson was a 1fberal man” hei= said, "butl:e;‘l:ofl“-mfl playing. %{ fli‘f&‘h his companies. remember one of said: . *‘Gen! there are two thingy ™1 that I hate to see members of myd company doing while on tour. I hare®vh to see them drinking out of a rocket = flask and I hate to see them gamblingl oo | Of dourse, I make no rules, but-—herés- e ground his teeth—but you nudc;ou tand.’ ."L young comedian laid down his- dards and said timidly: “1Of course, Mr. Ji derstand perfectly. There's one tion though, I'd like(to ask you on the behalf. Is there any plain sewing?* to our doing a littl