Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, July 20, 1902, Page 16

| ‘qwning every horge that raced in _feld for yea A0 7 16 THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SUNDAx, JULY 20, 1502 ~ Thoroughbreds. . FRASER. ‘Mooswa,” and Other Stories. By W. Author of “The Outcast,” < | — ———— ——— (Copyright, 1002, by McClure, Phillips & Co.) N\ CHAPTER 1. Less than a bundred miles from the city of Gotham, across broad, green fields, dotted fnto square and cblong valleys by full- leated maple and elm and mulberry, was . the village of Brookfield. A hundred years of expansion in the ad acted loversely with and had pinched it into & hermetic isolation. The Brookfleldians had discovered a huge beetle in the amber of their serene ex- fstence; it was really Rev. Dolman who Bad unearthed the monster. The beetle in %he amber was horse racing and the prifme oftender, practically the sole culprit, ‘was John Porter. By an Inconsistent twist of fate he was known as homest John. His father before Bim had raced in old Kentucky to consid- erable purpose and with the full vigor of & man who races for sport, and so to the son John in comsequence had come little beyond a not-to-be eradicated love of thoroughbreds. To race squarely, honestly and to the glory of high-cou was to bim as much a matter of religion a8 the consistent guardlanship of parish morals was to Rev. George Dolman. There- fore two men of strong beliefs were set on opposite sides of the fence. Bven in the Porter household, which was at Ringwood farm, was divided al- leglance. Mrs. “Porter was possessed of an abhorrent detestation of horse racing, 160 an assertive Christianity. The daughter Allison had inherited the horse taint. In the saddle was elysium; in the swinging gallop of a striving horse was the obliteration of everything but sun- ehine and the smile of fields and the blur of swift-gliding hedges and the driving perfume of clover-laden winds that presscd strong Into spread nostrils For Alan Porter, the son, there were columns of figures and musty-smelling bundles of tattered paper money where he clerked in the bank. There had been great unison in the Porter household over the placing of Alan. In addition to horse lore John Porter was & falr judge of human nature and beyond doubt there was a streak of velvet in Alan which would have twisted easily in the compressive grip of the race course. As if the evil one had meant to try solely the reclusive dwellers of Brook- field, Philip Crame, the banker, wandering from the respectable highway of finance, bad allowed himself to become interested ih race horses. But this fact was all but unknown in Brookfield, so the full resent- ment of the place was effusively tendered to John Porter. “In his younger days some money had come to Phillp Crane, with no extraordinary plethora of circumapection. The gambler spirit, that was his of inheritance, had an inetinetive truth as allied to finance, but, unfortunately for Philip Crane, chance and & speculative restleseness led him amongst men who commerced with the sport of kings. With acute precipitancy he was separated from the currency that had come to him. The process was so rapid that his racing experience was of little avall as an asset, #0 he committed the first great wise sct of his life—turned his back upen the race course and marched into finance so strongly, so persistently, that at 40 he was wealthy and the banker of Brookfleld. Twenty years of deliberate reminiscence convinced him that he could gratify the desire that bad been his in those immature days and possibly work out & paylng re- venge. Thus it was that he had got to- gother a stable of useful horses and, of far greater moment, secured a clever trainer, Dick Langdon. Crane's latter-day racing had been suc- cessful—he made money at it. No ‘man was ever more naturally endowed to suc- oeed on the turf than was Banker Philip Crane. Cold, passionless, more given to deep concentrated thought than expression, holding silence as a golden gift—even as a gite of rare rubles—nothing drew from him an unguarded word, no sudden turmoll quivered his nerve. It was characteristic of the man that he had waited nearly twenty years to resume racing, which really came as near to being a passion with him a8 was possible for anything to be. There is a saying In England that it takes two years of preparation to win a big hand- fcap; and these were the lines on which | Philip Crape, by Instinctive worked. adaptation, " Quite by chance Dick Langdon had come | into his hands over a matter of borrowed money. It ended by the bamker virtually the trainer's name, In addition two or three Borses ran in Philip Crane's own name. 1t there had been any distinctive project ip the scheme of creation that gave Dick Langdon to the world it probably was that } he might serve the useful tool of a subtle thinker. , Now, it did seem that Langdon had come into his own—that he had found his predestined ma John Porter had not been successful; Il fortune had set in something golng wrong. break down or get beaten by aceldent— there was always something. The steady drain had progressed even to an encum- brance on Ringwood, Ringwoed was simply a traloing farm, located close to an old disused race course, e had been no racing in Brook- . . . . . Inadvertently Rev. Dolman had intensi- the strained relationship that existed 'ween the good people, who trowned upon all racing endeavor, and those who saw but little sinfulness in John Port way of life. The church was in debt—everything in Brookfleld was, except the town pump. | The pastor was a nervous, zealous worker, and It oceurred to him thet a | concert might lighten the financial losd. | The idea was not alarmingly original, and the carrying out of it was on conventional lines; Jocal volunteer talent and a strong appeal fo the people of Brookfleld for their patronage. The, concert in the little old clapboarded church, its sides faded and blistered by, many seasons of tempest and seorching sun, was an unqualified success up to the fitth number Nothing could have been more success- And down ta the turn on the lower far side, [/here a red flag was fleking the su For twice wa must circle the green-swarded fleld, and finish close under the paddock 1L Just once we lined up; flag, and "“Go!’ starter; And the thunder of hoofs, and the cla of bits, made music to me on Crusader, Quick to the front, like a deer, sped a mare, a chestnut, making the running; But 1 steadied my mount, and took him far then down cut the the hoarse-voiced back—with his weight he would need all my nursing. They took the first hed bunch, Iike sheep in & bit to bit, and stirrups here three went down in a tangl 1 tralled at the heels of the Silver Gray— but Crusader was begging for halter— And flgr the wide ditch with the swoop of a rd, and on again, lapped on his quarter. | Then over the Liverpool ke mad, racing where Sweet Bilver fell fighting for lead, And_hie rider lay crushed, white-faced to the sky, and to miss him Crusader jumped wide. . k something struc! hid the wall as though shrouded; ’rmm Black took off with a ull thirty feet ere we had landed. As we rounded the turn I could see Little Jack go up to the mare that was lead- ng; ‘Then I let out a rap, and quickened my tul, or have evoked greater applause than mfc. to work clear of those tnat were ng. nd a cloud | they be #0 ba: To speak {ll of nee sister Allls. who was just the purest, sweetest lit- tle woman that ever lived—too brave and true to be anything else but good?® | As he turned he saw something that | checked his futlle anger. A tall shadow | that had come up the path behind them stretched out an arm and he heard the | viitfier's words gurgle and die away, as one of the strong hands that had beat the tattoo of approbation clutched him by the throat. The boy would have rushed to t! istance of this executive friend if the girl bad not clasped his arm in de- tention. N “It's Mortimer!" he cried, as a voloe from the strong-armed figure cut the night air with sharp decision. Then the shadowy forms twisted up grotesquely, weaving in and out. There were voices of expostuldtion and strong words of anger, but the new serious bus- iness that had materialized had most ef- fectually put a stop to refiections upon the innocent girl who had so unwittingly offended. It George Mortimer—he's in our bank,” Alan confided to his sister as they moved away. “He's all right—he's strong as a horse and I bet Crandal'll have a kink |in his neck tomorrow where George pinched him. ““What was it about?’ the girl asked. “Crandal was jawing about people who s ND HIS RIDER LAY CRUSHED, WHIT E-FACED, TO .. .-._SK\', AND TO MISS HIM CRUSADER JUMPED WIDE. the fourth effort, “Anchored,” as ren- dered by the village pride in the matter of baritone singing; even De Reszke never experienced a more genuine triumph. The crescendo of applause gradually fell away into the soft rustle of manipulated paper, as programs were consulted preparatory to a correct readiness for the fifth offer- ing. The programs confided that the “Death of Crusader,”” by Miss Allls Porter, was the mext item. In the front row of seats a prim little body, full of severe quaintness in every quirk of dress, tilted her head toward a neighbor, and whispered, s that racin® gal of John Porter's.” The neighbor answered in a creak meant for a whisper, “I'm right glad she's took to religlon for onct, an’ Is givin' us sowe- thin’ about them crusaders. They was in Palestine, you know. She’s been away to boardin' school all winter, an’ I guess it ‘Il be a high-falutin’ account of the war.” The quaint little old lady jerked her head up and down with declsive bobbine: On the third upward bob her eyes opened wide in astonishment; a small, slim fig- ure in a glaring red coat stood in the cen- ter of the improvised platform. From beneath the coat fell away In long graceful lines a black riding skirt; a dark oval face, set with large wondrous gray eyes—the Porter eyes—confronted the quaint little old lady. ““That's the Porter " her neighbor squeaked; “I've seen her atop them race horses more'n a hundred times. My! you'd think butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, she's that prim now.” “The coat would melt {t,” quaint one. Then a cl a tremble of apprehensive nervousn: ing it a 11t like a robi sald: THE RUN Oll’ CRUSADER. commented the giv- Full welght they had siyen the gallant big Blac! hundred and sixty he carrie And the run for the “Hunt Cup" three miles, with mud-wall and Jump studded. The best racing days of the old horse were ast—there'd never been better nor raver— But'now onne again he must cargy the silk ng the help of Crusader. win at the weight?’ 1 whisper. ked, as I cincned up the saddle ovel ater- hand as I gathered the jaughed when they talked of thé bugle I swung to his back—like a ro#k was the strength of his quarte t sight of the people he arched his iean neck. and they cheered for my King of all Hunters. In Ten horses would strive for the prize—a big field. and the pace would be killing. Fram the West came Sweet Sliver, a Gray, llant, and, fearless in jumping. A Takish oid ‘nag who walked over' the K been sent for the Cup from nluck‘v‘l On a Bay, Little Jack. who was fast, had put but a hundrea and thirty But 1 knew that North Star, a blg Brown— even the Black was no gamer— With a pull of ten pounds in the weight, we¥4s almost a match for Crusader e they made 3 brave troop. long-siriding and strong, with the pick of crbss-country riders. As we fil'd past the stand In stately parade, with its thousands of eager admirers ‘Stearns’ Electric Rat and Roach Paste and die out of the howse. One ingredicat bhlq'thbbodlu,luvh(n odor, It is a safe and sure exterminator also of Mice, ‘Water B vermin, Croton Bugs, Cockroaches and all other t has been in general use in houses, stores, hotels, factories, offices, public buildings, etc., for twenty-five years, Absolutely guaranteed. CAUTION: fbrivsimans e o0 e 25 cents & box at Druggists and Grocers or sent direct by Express prepatd. STEARNS’ ELECTRIC PASTE CO., Chicago, Jis. r, soft, girlish volce, with ]ull.' Once again past the stand we drove at the ditch that some would never get over; And a cheer shook the air as the Bay landed safe, with the mare on her back in the water. Then over went North Star—though he pecked, and nearly emptied his saddle. As 1 lifted the Black at his heels, he frothed the Brown's flank with his nozsle, V. Then down the back stretch, o'er hedge and o'er bank, we three were racing to- gether; TiI_at the next rall the Bay jostled the Brown, and riderless crashed through the timber. So we rounded the turn, and into the stralght—North Star's lean flank we were lapping— But_we shot to the front when I Black head, and I saw that t was stopping. We raced as one horse at the very last hedge—just a nose in front was Cru- sader: I felt the blg Brown bump twice at my side, and knew he was ready to blunder. With stirrups a-fiing, empty-saddled the Bay stride for stride galloped and floundered, Just missing his swerve, 1 called on the Black, and drew out as he bravely re- ve the e other sponded. vI Just the last fump! and Crusader took off twenty feet from the brush-covered timber. . Then the y jumped—too short for his stride—and fell, with his head on my wither— Down, down, almost to earth—brought to knees In the struggle, The Black lost a length. the Brown forged d, and T was half out of the saddle down and rode! How the old And the Brown rolling | tired in his ganop! | On_gallant Black! on, my brave pet! We were almost under the paddock. Then we nosed the Brown's flank; then we | reached to his girt; neck and neck—T rode at his shoulder. As we flashed past the post T had won by a_hecd. How they cheered, ‘Bravo, Crusader!" VIL But Crusader stopped short gave a_sisn and fell dead; I stood all alone in the winning. And a hush came over the clamorous mob; ltke a babe on his neck I was sobbing. He had won his last race; game to the end, his brave heart broke in the striving. (Signed.) A. FRASER. | The girl's volce kai faitered and died way to a broken whisper as she told of the death of Crusader. For a full minute there was & nolseless hush. The full pathos of the gallant borses |striving had crept into the hearts that were | flesh ‘and blood and, carried away by their teelings, the people had forgotten all about {thelr tortured convictions of the sinfulness of making a horse go faster tham a sharp trot. Gradually into their awakening senses |stole & comviction that somehow mey were countenancing the sin of racing. Before the complete borror of the situa- tion had obtained a strong pair of nands, far (back in the church, came together with an {explosive clap. Like the rat-tat-tat of a | quick-firing gun was the appreciative volley | ot recognition from the solitary apprauder. {1t went rolling and crackling througn the {church defiantly, derisively, apprectasvely. | Half way up the isle a softer pair of nands | touched the rattle with what sounced lik |a falnt ecl The entire audience turned and looked dis- | bad figuratively risen as a champion of the scandalous recitation. Resentment had taken hold of the good Christians. That Crusader had enlisted thelr sym- for a few minutes showed the sublety of this ‘“horse-racin’ The rest of the program might just as well have been eliminated; the concert, as & concert, would be discussed for all time to come a6 having projected the Death of Cru- sacer. The people flowed from the church full of an expressive contentiousn seekl by exuberant coudemnation of the sacrilege to square somebow themselves with tmelr con- sclences for the brief backsliding. Where the church path turned inw the road & group of men had attached to- gether, drawn by the magneiof dlscussion. They quite blocked the pathway, oblivious rything but their outraged Tfeellngs. great dark blotch in tus aeght the §roup stood, and presently two slight gray shadows alipping up the path, coming o the buman barricade, stopped, waverea and clrcled out on the grass (o pass. , The shad- ows were Allls Porter and her brother Alan, One ct the men, overfilled with his exceed- iog wrath, seeing the girl, gave expression to a most utchristian opinion of ner mod- esty. The sharp ears of the boy ueard the words of the man of hareh Instinet and his face flushed hot with rescntment. He half turned, bitter reproach rising to his lps. How could men be so brutish? How could paragiugly, discouragingly, at the man ‘who | own race horses,” the boy answered evasively. “It's Crand: the butehe: CHAPTER II It was the May meeting at Morris park and Morris park is the most beautiful race- course in all America. John Porter, walking up the steps of the grandstand, heard someone call him by name. Turning his head he saw it was | James Danby, an owner, sitting in his pri- vate box. Porter turned into the box and, taking the chair the other pushed toward him, sat down. “What about Lucretia?’ asked Danby, with the air of an established friendship which permitted thevasking of such ques- h Porter. “Oan she get the five furlongs?”’ queried Danby. “She's by Assassin and some of them were quitters.” “She’ll quit If she falls dead,” replied the other man quietly. “I've worked her good enough to win and I'm backing her." ““That'll do for mu declared Danby. “To tell you the truth, Johnm, I liked the little mare myself, but I hear that Lang- don, who tralns Lauzanne, expects to win." The mare'll be there or thereabout,” as- serted her owner. “I never knew a Laza- rone yet much good as a 2-year-old. They're sulky brutes, like the old hor: and If Lucretia’s beat it won't be Lau- zanne that'll turn the trick.” A bell clanged fmperiously at the judges’ stand. Porter pulled out his watch and looked at it. “That's saddlin he remarked, lacon- fcally. “I must go and have a bit on the mare and then take a look at her before she goes out.” As Porter went down the steps his com- panion leaned over the rail and crooked his finger at a thin-faced man with a blond mustache, who had been keeping a corner of his eye on the box. ‘“What are they makiog favorite, Lewis?" queried Danby, as the thin-faced man stood beside him. ucretla. “What's her price “Two to one." «ald Danby in a tentative tone. | “Langdon thinks it's all over bar the houting; he says Lauzanne outclasses his fleld,” replied Lewis. “Langdon's a betting man; Porter's an {owner and a good judge,” objected Danby, “and he's got a good boy up, too, McKay," he added, slowly focusing his fleld glasses Lewls, biting viclously at his cigar. “Bob, It's darn bard to find a straight- legged dog,” laughed Danby. “And when John Porter starts horse there's never anything doing. Here's six hundred; put it on the mare—straight.” - As Lowis pushed his way 1nto the shoving, seething, elbowing crowd in the betting ring be was suddenly struck in the chest by something which apparently had the mo- mentum of an eight-inch shell, but 1t was |only John Porter, who, in breaking through the outer crust of the living mass, had b ejected with more speed than was of his own volition. Bob smothered the expletive that bad risen to his lips when he witting assailant was and asked, “What they doin' to the mare I the ring?™ “Not much, answered his assallant, eatching his brea “there’s a strong play | on Langdon's horse, and 4f I didu’t know my boy pretty well, and Lucretia better, I'd have weakened a bit. But she can't lose; she can’t lose!” he repeated in the tone of & man who is reassuring himself. Lewis battled his way along till in front of a bookmaker with a face caet very much on the lines of & Rubens cherub, but the cherub type ended abruptly with the plump frontisplece of ‘Jakéy'’ Faust, the bookmaker. Lewis koew that. “If ther apythin’ doln' I'm up against it here,” muttered to himselfl. “What's Lauzann he asked in an indifferent tome of for the bookmaker's assistant was busy changing the figures on the lisr. Faust pretended not to hear him. “Sure thi whispered Le self. Then aloud he repeated his ques- tion, touching the bookmaker on the el- bow. The cherub smiled blandly. “Not takin' any,” he answered, nodding his head in the pleasant manper of a man who knows when he's got & good thing “What's Lucretia? persisted Lewis. “Oh, that's it, is it? I'll lay you twe to one. The questioner edged sway, shaking bis w who the un- | [ head sotemnty. “Here! five to two—how much—" but Lewls was gone. He burrowed like a mole most Indus- triously, regardiess of people's toes, thelr ribs, their dark looks and even angry ex- | pressions of strong disapproval, and when he had galned the greensward of the lawn hurried to his friend's box. “DId you get it on?" queried the latter. “No, 1 don’t like the look of it. Faust 1s holding out Lauzanne and stretched me half a point about the mare. He and Langdon are in the same boat." “But that won't win the race, remon- strated Danby. “‘Lauzanne is a maiden and Porter doesn’t often make a mistake about any of his own stock.” “I thought I'd come back and tell you," sald Bob Lewls, apologetically. ““And you did right, but if the mare wins and I'm not on, after getting it straight from Porter, I'd want to go out and kick myselt good and hard. But put it on stralght and place, then If Lauzanne's the goods we'll save. Lewls was gone about four minutes. ““You're on,”" he said when he returned. “I've two hundred on the chestnut for my- melt.” “Lauzanne " “It's booked that way, but I'm backin' the trainer, Langdon. I went on my up- pers two years ago backing horees; I'm following men now.” “Ball business,” objected his stout friend. “It's bad business to back any- thing that talks.” When John Porter reached the saddling paddock his brown mare, Lucretia, was being led around in a circle in the lower corner. As he walked down toward her his tralner, Andy Dixon, came forward a few paces to meet him. “Are they hammerin’ Crane's horse In the ring, sir?' he asked, smoothing dowh the grass with the toe of one foot, watch- ing this physical process with extreme in- terest. Just what you'd notice,” replied Por- ter. “Why?" “Well, 1 don’t like the look of it a Iit tle bit. Here's this Lauzanne, runs like a dog the last time out—Ilast by the length of a street—and now I've got it pretty straight they're out for the stuff.” They'd a stable boy up on him that time. “That's just it," erled Dixon. “Grant comes to mec that day—you know Grant; he works the commi: m for Dick Langdon —and tells me to leave the horse alone, and today he comes and—" he hesitated. “And what?" n't Grant broke?' asked Porter, with seeming irrelevance. “He's close next trainer. “Aren’t his friends that follow him all broke " “A good many of them have their address in Queer street.” “Look here, Andy' sald the owner, “there fsn’t a man with a horse in this stake that doesn't think he's going to win, and when it's all over we'll Lucretia’s number go up. Grant's a fool, he added viclously. “Didn’t he break Fisher—didn’t he break every other man that ever stuck to him?" “It's not Grant at all,” replied Dixonm, rubbing the palms of his hands together thoughtfully—a way he had when he wished to concentrate in comcrete form the result of some deep cogitation—"it's Lang- don an’ he's several blocks away from an asylum.” “Langdon makes mistakes, to “He ocashes In often when he's credited with a mistake,” retorted the other. “Well, I've played: tbe little mare,” as- serted Porter. “Much, sir?" asked Dixon solicitously. “All I can stand—and a bit more,” he added falteringly. “I peed a win, a good win,” he offered in an explanatory volce. “I want to clear Ringwood—but never mind about that, Andy. The mare's well, ain’t she? There can't be anything doing with McKay—we've only put him up & few times, but he seems all right.”" “I thipk we'll win,~ answered the tralner. I didn’t get anything straight— just that there seemed a deuced strong tip on Lauzanne, considerin’ that he'd never showed any form to warrant it. Yonder he is, sir, in No. 5—go and have a look at him.” As John Porter walked across the pad- dock a horseman touched the fingers of his right hand to his cap. There was half-concealed look of interest in the man's eye that Porter knew by experience meant something. “What do you know, Mike?' he asked carelessly, only half halting in his stride. “Nottin', sir, but dere's something in de know dis trip. Your mare good little | fly w'en she's right, but youjre up against (%] | "“Porter stopped and looked at thehorse- man. He was Mike Gaynor, a trainer, and more than once Porter had stood his friend. Mike always had on hand three or four horses of inconcelvable slowness and uncertainty of wind and limb; consequently there was an ever-recurring imability to pay feed bills, so he had every chance to know just who was his friend and who was not, for he tried them most sorely. Porter knew all this quite well, also that |in spite of Mike's chronic impecuniosity be was honest and true as steel to a benefactor. He waited, feeling sure that Gaynor had something to tell. “There's & strong play on Lauzanne, ain't | there, eir Porter nodded. “Sure t'ing. That Langdon's & crook. I knowed him when he was ridin’ on freight care; now he's & swell, though he's a long | sprint from bein' a gentleman. 1 got de tip | dat dere was a killin' on, an' I axed Dick | Iangion if dere was anyt'ng doin’, and| Dick says to me, eays he, puttn’ bot'| thumbs up”—and Mike held both hands out | | norizontally with the thumbs stiff and ertical to |l ustrate this form of oath— «‘{here's nottin’ doin’, Mike,’ says he. What d'ye t'ink of that, sir, an' me knowin’ there was?" asked Mike tragically “It's the biggest tip that always falls| down, Gaynor, and they've got to be pretty switt to beat Lucretia.” “That filly's all right; she's worked out | | well encugh to do up that field of etiffs. I ain’t no rail bird, but I've had me eye on | her. But I ain't doin’ no stunt about hors Mister Porter; ! king about men. filly's hovest and youw're homest, s, but you don't rolde th' mare you'self, do you?" “You think, Mike" began Mr. Porter, questioningly, but Gaynor interrupted him with: “I don’t think mottin’, an' I ain't | sayin’ pottin’. I ain't never been up vefore the afewards yet for crooked work or crooked talk, but there's a boy riita' in that bunch today w'a ot six hundred for | t'rowing me down once, §'lp me God! | he pulied Blue Smoke to & standstill on me, | koowin' that it would break me. That was at Coney Island two years ago.” “And you dow't remember his name, I suppose, Mike?' “I don't remember nottin' but that I got it in the neck. But you keep your eye open, sir. You t'lnk that none of the b'ys would t'row you down ‘cause you've been good to them, but some of "em are that mean they'd | steal th' sugar from a fly. I knows ‘em. 1 bears ‘em talk, ‘cause they don't mina me— t'ink I'm one of th' gang.” “Thaok you very much, Gaynor; 1 appreci- ate your kindly warning, but I hope you're mistaken all the same, sald Porter. Then be proceeded on his way toward stall five, In which was Lausanne. “How do, Mister Port 1t was Philip Crane, standing just oute side of the stall, who thus addressed Bim. i, answered the 'Got something running today?®™ he contine ued with vague innocence. Langdon, just inside of the box, ehuckied woftly. Surely Orane was a past master lu ting Lueretia in this race,” re- plted Hénest John “Oh!" Then Grame took Porter gently by the aleeve and drew him half within the “Mr. Langdon, who trains a horse or two for me, says this one’ll win,” and he indicated the big chestnut colt that the trainer was binding tight to a light racing saddle. “You'd better have a bit om, Mr. Porter,” Crane added “Lucretia carries my money,” answered Porter In loyalty. Langdon looked up; having cinched the girth tight, and took a toward the two men. ““Well, we both can't win," he said, halt fnsolently, I don't think th thing out today'll beat Lausanne.’ ‘“The mare'll beat him,' retorted Por- ter, curtly, nettled by the other's cock- sureness. T'll bet you one horse against the other, the winner to take both, oried Langdon, in & sneering, deflant tome. “I've made my bet,” owner, quietly. “I hear you had an offer of five thousand for your filly, Mr. Porter,” half querfed Crane. “1 414 and I refused it.* “‘And here's theone that'll beat her to- day an’ I'll sell him, for half that serted the tralner, putting his band on Lauzanne's neck. Exasperated by the persistent boastful- ness of Langdon, Porter was angered into saying, “If he beats my mare I'll give you that for him myself.' “Done!” snapped Langdon. and I'll stick to It."” “I don’t want the horse,” began Porter; but Langdon interrupted him. “‘Oh, if you want to crawl—" * I never crawl, id Porter flercely. “T don’t want your horse, but just to show you what I think of your chance of winning, I'll glve you two thousand and a half it you beat my mare, no matter what wins the race.” “I think you'd better call this bargain off, Mr. Porter," remonstrated Crane. ‘‘Oh, the bargain will be off,”" anewered John Porter; “If I'm any judge, Lauzanne's running his race right here in the stall.” His practiced eye had summed up Lau- zanne as a chicken-hearted one; the sweat was running in little streams down the big chestnut's legs and dripping from his belly into the drinking earth epit-spat, drip-drip; his head was high held in nervous appre- hension, his lips twitched, his flanks trem- bled like wind-distressed water and the white of his eye was showing ominously. Langdon cast a quick, significant, cau- tioning look at Crane as Porter spoke of the horse; then he sald, “You're a fair judge an’ if you're right you get all the stuft an' no horse.” “I stand to my bargaln, whatever hap- pens,” Porter retorted. At that instant a bugle sounded. “Get up, Westley,” Langdon said to his Jockey, “‘they’re golng out.” As he lifted the boy to the saddle the trainer whispered a few conclse directions. “Hold him steady at the post,” he mut- tered; “I've got him a bit on edge today. Get off in front and stay there; he's feelin® g00d enough to leave the earth. This'll be & matter of a couple of hundred if you win." “All out! all out!” called the volce of the paddock official. “Number one!" them, “Come on you, Westley! they're all out.” The ten starters passed in stately proces- slon from the green awarded paddock, through an opened gate, to the soft-har- rowed earth, gleaming pink-brown in the sunlight of the course. How consclentiously beautiful the thor- oughbred looked. The long, sweeping step, the supple bend of the fetlock as it gave like & wire spring under the weight of great broad quarters, all sinewy strength and tapered perfection; the stretch of gentle-curved neck, sweet lined as a grey- hound’s, bearing a lean, bony head set with two great jewels of eyes, in which were honesty and courage and eager longing for the battle of etrength and stamina and stoutness of heart; even the nostrils, with & red transparency as of silk, spread and drank eagerly the warm summer air that was full of the perfume of new-growing clover and green pasture land. Burely the spectacle of these lovely creatures, nearest to man in thelr thoughts and their desires, and superior in their honesty and truth, was a sight to gladden the hearts of kings. Of a great certalnty it was a sport of kings; and also most cer- tainly had it at times come into the hands of highway robbers. Some such bitter thoughts at this came into the heart of John Porter as he stood and watched his beautiful brown mare, Lu- cretia, tralling with stately step behind the others. He loved good horses with all ti fervor of his own strong, simple, honest nature. Their walk was a delight to him, their roaring gallop a frenzy of eager sensa- tlon, There was nothing in the world be loved so well. Yes—his daughter, Allis. But just now he was thinking only of Lu- cretia—Lucretia and her rival, the golden- haired chestnut, Lauzanne. * (To Be Continel.) N sald Lucrbtia's “T've sald 1t The kind that’s Right BLATZ BEER MILWAUKER enjoys s reputation never befors attalned by & product of its lighttul flavor. Different brands adapted to different BLATZ MALT-VIVINE (Non-Intoxicant) Tonle. Druggists or direct. VAL BLATZ BREWING CO., Milwaukee. Fur saie by M'CONSELL DRUG 00, A4 Dodge streets, Omaha SHERMAN & Corner Sixteenth Buy The Sunday Bee LET_US_REASON TOGETHER. Conservativenessis Commendable. And it is to Such that We Desire to Talk. During the Past Week Many of Omaha’s Best Judges of Piano Values Have Av;—led Them-= selves of the Money- Saving Opportunity Presented by The Marked Down Sale Now in Progress at Schmoller & Mueller's. You May Be Interested int Learningthat This Sale Affords the Op- portunity To Save from $75 to $150 on the Purchase of a Piano. By Reason of Our Purchase of Nearly 500 Pianos at About 30 Per Cent Less Than Jobbing Prices, We Have Deter- mined te Dispose of Our En= tire Stock on Hand. Prices Are Being Made that Can- net Fail to Interest the Most Conservative. This Sale is Distinctly a Sale of Strictly Artistic, High Grade Instruments. You Are Invited to In= vestigate. It is extremely gratifying to us to know that the people of Omaha, Nebraska and the surrounding states appreciate the oppor- tunity offered by this marked-down sale, which presents the best chance to obtain & plano of sterling worth and national repu- tation at prices that do not admit of re- tall profits. During the past week many of Omaha's shrewdest buyers, people who have a busi- ness as well an artistic side to their makeup, people who, while having an eye for the beautiful, also know the value of a dollar, bave avalled themselves of this ex- ceptional opportunity to save from 10 to 30 per cent. Then, agaln, the quality of the Instru- ments offered at this sale is quite out of the order of sale goods. Surely mo one can call in question the artistic standing of such celebrated planos as STEINWAY, VOSE & SONS, HARDMAN, MASON & HAMLIN, EMERSON, STEGER & SONS, A. B. CHASE, GEO. STECK and about 20 other well known makes. Remember, there is nothing reserved. Every instrument in llu‘ house goes in. SURELY THIS 18 YQUR PIANO OPPORTUNITY. Such prices as are being made at this sale could not be nces. Here we are with an immense stock of 300 in- struments, embracing the choicest products of over 30 different factor many of the oldest and most reputable makes. The sea- son has been backward, owing to the exe ve rainy spell. Then here comes up this opportunity te buy these half a thousand instruments at & price that was at least 30 per cent less than the closest prices we were ever able to get before. We just figured It this way: Nall this big deal ourselves; then give the people a chance at the stock now on hand. We figure we can afford to seil our present stock without profit, to make room to take care of the others. ‘What we lose on one we make on the other, be- sides gotting the advertisements. We are not unmindful of the beneficial effect of the influence of & satisfled customer. This week we shall expect to cleat the foor of from 60 to 75 planos, and to that end prices will be made to win your pa- tronage. 0dds and ends, such as square plamos, used uprights, organs, new and used, will be sold at prices that will make them move, About 20 squares will be sold at from $10.00 up to $50.00, on payments to suit. Orgens at almost any price. sed uprights on terms of §1.60 per week. Then any of the 30 different makes of brand new planos will be s0ld on the closest possible margin. The most economical and hardest bare galn driver in the land will be interested in the absolutely bona fide bargains to be secured at this sale. Then, remember Schmoller & Muller offer you the'r populsr payment plan. You are not required to pay anything In advance, but while enjoying the use of the plano you will be allowed to pay in small amounts of §1.50, 132.00, $2.60 $3.00 per week, just accord= ing to your convenlence and the price of the pisno. The only requirement is that you have & god reputation and ability te meet your payments thereafter. An immediate investigation is advisable, Schmoller & Mueller, ., Wholesgle and Retatl Dealors, 1513 FARNAM STRERT, OMAHA. 502 BROADWAY, COUNCIL BLUFFS, Manufacture!