# Palo'mine (Hawkes)/Chapter 6

IT was with a heavy heart that Halsey finally mounted Palo'mine and started back to college at Lexington. He had been in doubt whether to go back or not. But his uncle and aunt had insisted that what money it would cost to put him through the remaining two months of the college year would be but a drop in the bucket. He might as well have the benefit of the two additional months.
"If we are going to smash, we will, and a few hundred dollars more or less won't break me any quicker," his uncle Hillery had said.
So Halsey had finally consented to go back. But the greatest consideration, that which had really sent him back, his uncle and aunt knew nothing of. It was so wild ​a dream that he hardly dared to own it to himself. But the courageous young man had a plan for getting a part of the money which his good uncle so sorely needed. At least he was going to make a try for it.
As soon as he was back in Lexington he went at once to Jock McBride and told him his plan.
"You see, Mr. McBride," he finished, "my uncle is down and out and I must save him. I think Palo'mine can win good money, even if he cannot take first in the sweepstake. I will work day and night. Won't you help us? We need your help so much."
"I am afraid you don't realize what this great sweepstake race is," replied the jockey. "You see all the great racers in America are in it. Why, old Red Bird himself has won it for three years, and he holds the world's running record. But he is lot the only great running horse that will be entered. Flying Cloud is nearly as good. The stables at Louisville have also promised to put in a couple more horses who will make Red Bird look to his laurels. Some of the ​best jockeys in the country will ride. It is not always the horse, but the man on the horse counts as well. Do you think we can take a green horse and a green driver and win out with all these seasoned horses and jockeys?"
"I don't know, but I do know I want to try. We can not do any worse than get beaten. That won't kill us. Won't you help? We need the money so badly."
McBride was a good fellow and he had a large heart in his breast. He was deeply touched by the story of Colonel Eaton's financial embarrassment. He had known the Eaton family for several years.
There was no kinder-hearted gentleman in Kentucky than Hillery Eaton. If he could do anything to help he ought to. Besides, he hated to disappoint the boy. So he finally announced his decision.
"I tell you what I will do," he said one morning after Halsey had been dinning away at him for several days. "I will undertake it if you will put all thoughts of money out of your head. Then if we fail ​you won't be heartbroken. I tell you frankly that there isn't a ghost of a chance, but I will help you and we will enter your horse. We won *t expect anything, so if we win anything that will be all to the good."
So it was with this forlorn hope that Halsey and Palo'mine began the really hard work of preparing for the great Sweepstake Race which was to be held in May.
"You must do a thousand miles under certain conditions besides all the track work," said McBride the morning that he gave in.
Halsey was nonplussed at this announcement, but promised. So early and late they worked, getting Palo'mine reduced to the last ounce of flesh.
"He must be all bone and muscle," said McBride. "You also must be fifteen pounds lighter. Even then you will be thirty pounds heavier than most of the jockeys and that is a handicap."
Halsey had thought he knew what hard riding was but McBride disillusionized him. Every hour that he could get outside college work was spent in the saddle. He was in ​the saddle before daybreak and often until midnight. At night after these long rides in the open he would fall like a log into bed and did not awake until he was aroused by his roommate in the early dawn.
Not only did he have to put in these grilling long-ride stunts, but also they had to work so many hours a day on the Lexington Jockey Club track, which was one of the fastest in the country. They had to begin all over learning the race. The start, the finish, the race as a whole. How to ride the different stretches. How to save the horse as well as one could for the finish. In all the tricks of the trade McBride carefully schooled Halsey.
The boy worked as he had never worked before and Palo'mine worked as he had never done before. It all counted and McBride himself was surprised at the results.
Finally one day when he had held the watch himself and they had done the whole mile and an eighth in three seconds better than they had ever done before, McBride at last became enthusiastic. This was very ex​ceptional for him. He was a Scotchman and not given to talk.
"My godfrey, boy. I don't know but what we have got a racer after all! He really did something on that last quarter that was worthy of old Red Bird himself. Come up close, I want to whisper the time in your ear. It will surprise you. I don't want any one to hear."
The words were barely out of his mouth when a dark little man came running up. He seemed very much excited.
"McBride," he cried. "Whose horse is that? What is his name? I took his time meself. Perhaps I made a mistake. But it sure looked good."
To Halsey's surprise Jock would say nothing about the time, and finally the man went away after examining Palo'mine carefully. McBride seemed silent, and would say little about the stranger.
Finally in answer to Halsey's repeated questions as to who he was he said, "Why he is one of the best jockeys in Kentucky and the most unscrupulous. His name is ​Dan O'Brien. He never stops at anything in my opinion. But we have never caught him at any crooked business, so he can't be fired. But he is a bad one. I am afraid of him. I am very sorry that he saw your horse run to-day. He is to drive Flying Cloud. You keep a sharp lookout on your horse. Look to his feed and his feet. Of course we won't expect anything bad, but we will keep our eyes open. There are some large bets up on Flying Cloud. Some are even backing him against Red Bird. So we must look after our horse. But don't worry about it, boy. Everything will probably be all right. Perhaps I ought not to have said anything about O'Brien."
But Halsey did not forget and he watched Palo'mine as he would have his uncle's safe. The burst of speed that Palo'mine had shown in that last test had put a great hope in the boy's heart. Perhaps fate was going to be kind to them. That night he opened his Bible before going to sleep and by chance opened at the story of David and Goliath. Perhaps this race would prove another sur​prise to the Philistines. He hoped so. So with this new hope in his heart the boy went to bed and slept more peacefully than he had for days.
Halsey thought very little about Dan O'Brien and his curiosity about Palo'mine and his time, after a day or two. At first he was a bit worried about the sinister looking Irishman, but as Jock McBride did not seem to worry he took his cue from him.
But one evening about a week later he was riding into the driveway leading to the stable when Palo'mine's hoof struck a small, square block of wood lying immediately in his path. There was something about the innocent wood that caused Halsey to dismount and pick it up. To his surprise he saw that it had a long savage nail driven in the middle of it with about two inches sticking out. The boy looked at it for several minutes before the full significance of this bit of wood came to him. This was after he had placed it on the ground with the nail up, where it had a savage appearance.
"Gracious, Palo'mine," he said at last, ​"if you had planted your hoof fairly upon that it might have lamed you for a month." As a precautionary measure Halsey walked ahead of the horse and found three more of these savage blocks in the driveway before reaching the stable door.
"The miserable scoundrel," he cried, gathering them all up in his hands.
How any human being, especially one who handled and drove horses, could stoop to such dastardly meanness and cruelty was beyond his comprehension. But this was not all, for to his astonishment, Halsey found another block in the stall. The conspirator had sought to make sure that one of his missiles found the mark.
Halsey hardly dared leave Palo'mine, but Jock McBride had to be told. So after feeding the horse the excited boy sought out McBride and showed him the blocks.
"I guess that is O'Brien's work all right," he said finally looking very grave. "We have got to watch our horse carefully. Dan evidently considers him dangerous. But don't worry. I guess he won't try anything ​more seeing this failed." But McBride himself was not at all sure what the unscrupulous jockey's next move might be.
All went well for several days and the race was only a week away. One night Halsey had gone into the loft of the stable to get Palo'mine a wisp of hay. He was being fed very little hay, but the boy thought he ought to have a handful. He was just stooping over to drop it down through the tunnel leading to the manger below when he noticed a hand reaching into the manger. It was thrust into the manger quickly and then withdrawn. But it had time in which to drop before the horse what looked like pieces of carrot.
"Back, Palo'mine," cried Halsey, imperatively.
The faithful horse immediately backed to the length of his halter chain, and Halsey thought he heard the sound of scurrying feet.
"Whoa, Palo'mine," was Halsey's next order. He felt sure that the horse would ​stand where he was until he could reach the stable. He went down the stairs two steps at a time and fairly ran into the stable. Yes, the mysterious hand had left several generous pieces of carrot in the manger, but what had been the object? Palo'mine was very fond of carrots, but there was no one who had ever fed him carrots before.
Then a dark thought flashed into Halsey's mind. Was some one trying to poison Palo'mine? At the thought his blood fairly boiled. But he would wait and see. He would not be suspicious until there was good ground for suspicion.
An hour later when he showed McBride the pieces of carrot, the jockey broke open one of them and they discovered it contained a fine, white powder.
"What's that?" cried Halsey, excitedly.
"Arsenic," replied the jockey, gravely.
So after that either Halsey himself, or a trusted college chum kept watch over the horse.
One afternoon just as he had returned ​from the track to the stable Halsey was rather astonished to receive a summons by letter from the President of the college to come at once to his office. The letter was handed to him by a small boy who quickly disappeared. The young man turned the letter over and over and read it several times. It looked genuine. It was written on the college stationery. But what could the President want of him? Finally he put the letter in his pocket and decided to go to the office as soon as he had fed Palo'mine. Fortunately his college friend came around to the stable just before he left so he could leave the chum in charge.
Halsey was a bit taken back when the President informed him that he had not sent for him. When the boy showed him the letter he said it was a fake. Probably a joke of some of his college friends. Halsey excused himself and at once took the letter to McBride.
"Just another ruse to get at your horse. They thought you would leave him alone. You had better have a cot moved into the ​stable and sleep there until after the race. I guess they won't try anything more. Three times and out."
So Halsey moved into the stable and slept by the side of his beloved Palo'mine and they became better chums than ever, if possible.
Probably the most exciting and magnificent spectacle in the annals of running races for all time, anywhere in the whole world, is the great Kentucky sweepstake of which I write. It even eclipses the famous English Derbys. It is the talk of horsemen throughout the Middle West for weeks before the stirring event. Rarely do a group of equine lovers gather for a horse chat, but they tell of great races they have seen in the Blue Grass Sweepstake.
The purse is always large, twenty-five thousand dollars usually, and the bets are as large as the purses and credit of the betters will permit of. This is a free and easy country, and a good horseman must back his favorite horse, even if he has to pawn his coat.
​The horses run in these great races are famous descendants of the most beautiful and fleet Arabic and Bard strains. From time to time the stock is improved by the importation of a famous stallion, the policy being to produce the best running horses in the whole world. Most of the records for running races have been kept in America.
For several days before the race the Kentucky turnpikes were thronged with travellers, all going to Lexington, the Mecca of horse breeders and the scene of the great sweepstake. These parties were on horseback, or in carriages and buggies, while many journeyed in ox carts, or on foot. Several days of dusty travel and fatigue were nothing, when weighed in the balance with this thrilling event. For two days before the race each train coming into Lexington brought its load of visitors. Then the city took on a gala appearance and the accommodations were taxed to their utmost.
Five thousand of the country's best horse breeders, trainers, and jockeys were usually ​in attendance, and the entire crowd often reached fifty thousand.
The great race was held just outside the city on the track of the Lexington Jockey Club, a famous kite shaped track, which has seen most of the world's trotting and running records smashed. The track was kite shaped because that gave a straight-away stretch for both the start and the finish.
The great grandstand, seating ten thousand people, was situated at the point, so that offered a fine view of most of the race, while the bleachers for the rest of the fifty thousand were arranged along the sides of each leg. But most of the spectators were possessed of field glasses so the entire race could be plainly seen.
As the day which was to mean so much to Halsey and Palo'mine approached, the boy became so excited that he could hardly sleep or eat. But McBride admonished him not to expect anything in the way of money from the race.
College had to be given up for a few days and Halsey and the trainer put in all their ​time perfecting Palo'mine. Nor was McBride disappointed. The day before the race when they tried him out the fine horse even astonished McBride, but just what time he made for the half mile McBride would not tell the boy.
"He may not do as well in the race," said the trainer, "and we don't want to be disappointed."
"Yes, he will do better," replied Halsey confidently. "He is going to surprise even you. I have been talking to Palo'mine for days. I have told him over and over how much it means to Uncle and me. Perhaps you think he doesn't understand. Well, maybe he doesn't just understand my words, but when I get upon his back the day of the race, I know he will feel that I want him to run to the last drop of blood in his veins and he will do it, too. He will get the thought from me. I tell you, Mr. McBride, there is a wonderful understanding between us."
McBride said nothing, but he was really impressed with the enthusiasm of the boy.
At last the eventful day dawned. It was ​a perfect May day with blue skies and a balmy air. Perhaps not quite as ideal for a race as Autumn, but still a great day.
The crowd began to gather at the grand stand several hours before the race, which was for three in the afternoon. Some of the jockeys were trying out their horses for the last time on the track and the crowd wished to see them go. They also liked to talk horse and make predictions on the race.
Red Bird was the favorite and Flying Cloud the next best. Flying Cloud was even backed against Red Bird at three to two. Flying Cloud was also freely backed against the rest of the field at three to one.
Palo'mine was entered as King Crescent, because of the crescent in his forehead. Halsey had not wanted to use his real name as he feared the folks at home might get wind of his plans. No one had ever heard of King Crescent.
There were six horses in the race; Stardust, Golden Rod, and Nighthawk being the other three.
Halsey had not imagined Kentucky con​tained so many people as swarmed the streets of Lexington on that famous forenoon. They started for the race track two hours before the race was scheduled to begin and by noon twenty-five thousand had assembled. By two o'clock nearly every seat was taken, and thousands were standing.
As a preliminary to the great race there was a horseback tournament. A bit of old-time exhibition of riding and skill with the lance. Fifteen rings were placed upon a pole and each rider rode by at a gallop and sought to pick a ring from the pole with his lance. The one who picked off the most in fifteen trials was declared the winner of the tournament. The victor then rode up before the grandstand and called for the lady of his choice to come forth and be crowned with the wreath of flowers which he had won. It was a pleasing bit of fun, and just the right prelude for the great race.
Halsey and Palo'mine and the other riders and horses did not appear until the signal was given the race. They ​closeted with the trainers in some stables nearby, putting the last touches to the horses and getting their last instructions.
"Don't be nervous, if you can help it," McBride had said. "Don't expect any money. Be sure and don't spare the quirt at the start. You must get away like a flash. Don't let him lag. Keep as well up to the front as you can and not blow him. And finish for all there is in you. I will be in the grand stand, watching. Don't get into a pocket if you can help it. Use your head and I am sure that old Palo'mine will do the rest."
"All right, Mr. McBride. We will do our best," replied Halsey.
When he finally rode forth upon the track there was such a sea of faces gazing at him that it made him fairly dizzy. Every one seemed to be looking directly at him and at Palo'mine. But they were probably not looking at them any more than at any of the other horses.
There was a great ovation as old Red Bird took place under wire. Flying ​Cloud also was greeted warmly. But there was not a ripple for King Crescent.
Finally the six beautiful horses were drawn up abreast, for it was a standing start. The pistol cracked and they were off.
Six such beautiful horses had rarely been seen on a Kentucky track, as these madly racing thoroughbreds. Red Bird was a bright bay with black points and black mane and tail. He was beautifully groomed and his coat shone as though it had been varnished. White Cloud was a clean-cut white, of the Arabic type, with very slender legs and dainty hoofs. Breeding spoke in his every movement. Stardust was a black, more on the Morgan, or pony build, but nevertheless he could rim like the wind. Golden Bod was a red roan, tall and rangy and very fiery. The groom had to hold him while the driver mounted. Nighthawk was a dapple gray, very full-chested, with easy motions. While our old friend Palo'mine was a dark, rich chestnut, with a white crescent in his forehead.
The six quirts had descended as one whip ​and each horse had struck his full stride in less than a hundred feet. Red Bird had made good his reputation as a great racer by a wonderful quick getaway that had put him two lengths in the lead without any seeming effort. White Cloud was next, two lengths behind, and the rest were rather closely bunched, with Palo'mine bringing up the rear.
Halsey felt the rush of wind in his face and heard it singing in his ears and the sound of many pounding hoofs like the charge of cavalry. The pace fairly took his breath away, but after a little his nerves steadied and he began working his horse forward.
Relatively, the flying horses who were making twenty feet at a stride, seemed to stand still, or just move. For Palo'mine's nose was just at Nighthawk's gray flank. Then it moved forward to his saddle girth, then to his withers, and at last he was nose to nose with the gray racer. Stardust was next in the procession that had now strung out a bit, and Halsey and Palo'mine went ​after him. Soon Palo'mine's nose was up to the roan runner's flank, and Halsey came abreast of his rump, and then his shoulder, and finally the two horses were running neck to neck. They held this position up to the quarter and then Palo'mine drew ahead.
There were now three horses ahead of Halsey and his beloved Palo'mine; Red Bird four lengths, White Cloud two lengths and Golden Eod one length.
McBride was watching eagerly from his position in the grand stand and was much pleased with their showing. But the crowd thought Red Bird a sure winner. He had taken the lead so easily and seemed not to be over-exerting himself in holding it. But the full pace of the race had not yet been struck.
It was one thing to pass Mghthawk and Stardust, but quite another to pass Golden Rod. Up to this point Halsey had not urged Palo'mine, but he knew his mettle, and felt that he was good for more speed without blowing him, so he gave him the quirt.
​McBride noted his move from the grand stand and applauded.
"That's the stuff, boy," he cried, "go after them. You have got a game horse and he is going to show them a thing or two or my name isn't Jock McBride."
Foot by foot Palo'mine drew alongside Golden Rod, yet it was a hard struggle. But he was even up at the half and soon drew ahead after that important post had been passed.
"That's the boy," cried McBride. "Go after White Cloud. Give that durned Dan O'Brien what is coming to him." But this was easier said than done as McBride knew full well. It had been one thing to work up into third position, but to gain upon the two leaders was quite another.
As Palo'mine's nose drew up to Flying Cloud's white flank O'Brien looked back over his shoulder at Halsey with a malevolent grin, which also had a look of fear. He had not suspected that he was so close. So he gave his splendid horse the quirt. But Palo'mine held his position, with Halsey's ​having to use his own quirt for another eighth of a mile, up to the five-eighths mark. Then Halsey called upon Palo'mine for another burst of speed. He leaned well forward on the horse's neck and struck him twice, not hard, but he communicated something to the horse from his own body, or mind, which was not in the blows. He called to Palo'mine with his master's will. The splendid horse felt his master's call for more speed, and immediately his nose came forward even with O'Brien's saddle.
The Jockey again looked back at Halsey, and with a sudden sideward movement of his quirt struck Palo'mine across the face. He did it so cleverly that the crowd thought he had intended to strike his own horse, but Halsey knew better and his blood boiled, yet he would fight fair. So he pulled Palo'mine a little to one side in which effort he lost the half length which he had gained, but it was soon regained and another half length with it, so they were running neck to neck at the three-quarters post.
​By this time McBride was fairly jumping up and down in his seat.
"Good boy," he cried. "Now show him your heels. Push him, boy, push him. Palo'mine is iron. Push him. Give him the quirt."
Halsey of course did not hear this advice. He did not hear anything from the crowd. He only heard the singing wind in his ears, and the pounding hoofs, and the labored breathing of the straining thoroughbreds.
Once again he leaned forward close to Palo'mine's neck, that his frantically racing horse might the better feel the urge of his body and called upon him for more speed, at the same time striking him lightly with the quirt. Yes, Palo'mine had more speed in him. Halsey had known it all the time, and he had still more, but Halsey was saving that for old Red Bird, and the last eighth of a mile. Everything depended upon the home stretch.
Inch by inch and foot by foot they drew ​ahead of Flying Cloud, and at the end of the mile were only a length behind Red Bird. The crowd were now intense with excitement. The men were most of them standing. Some were shouting, but most were too excited to shout. Women were waving handkerchiefs and parasols. The excitement was intense. But of all this Halsey and Palo'mine were unconscious.
They were almost in a world of their own. In it was just a flying blurred landscape. A sea of blurred faces, a ribbon of brown track before and old Bed Bird just ahead of them. To Halsey's dismay Red Bird's rider gave him the quirt at the mile and put forth his every ounce of strength and skill to pull ahead of the dark horse who had come up to such dangerous quarters.
But Halsey also again called to Palo'mine. This time he did not spare the quirt but let it fall heavily. Each blow hurt him more than it did Palo'mine. But they must win. Eaton Manor was at stake. It seemed to Halsey that it was almost impossible to gain upon the leader. The eighth was go​ing. They were rushing towards the wire like a whirlwind. In another few seconds he would have lost the race.
With a mighty effort into which he put all his will power he again called to Palo'mine, and to his great joy Palo'mine's nose came up to Red Bird's saddle girth. It then reached his shoulder and then they were neck to neck. But it seemed to Halsey that Red Bird was a foot or so ahead. The wire was only about a hundred feet away.
Once again his quirt descended and he called to Palo'mine with the agonized cry of his soul. Into it he put all the longing of his young life; his hope for Eaton Manor. If he had shouted, the sound would have been as a whisper compared with thunder to this cry of the boy's soul for all he loved.
And Palo'mine, brave old Palo'mine, heard and answered. With a thunder of hoofs and a rush of wind, they swept under the wire. But as he glanced sideways at Red Bird, Halsey's heart sank, as he seemed to be a few inches ahead.
Then the bright world grew dark and Hal​sey felt a queer sensation coming over him. He was faint and sick and weak, so he slipped to the ground, holding on to the pommel of his saddle. The next thing he remembered Jock McBride was hauling him to his feet and shouting something in his ear. He was so dazed and confused he could not hear what he was saying.
The crowd had gone mad. They were shouting something with a sound like the roar of the sea, but Halsey could not make out what it was. Then his brain cleared and the import of the mighty sound came to his consciousness.
"King Crescent. King Crescent." They were roaring. "King Crescent wins."
"McBride, who is King Crescent?" asked Halsey in a daze, bewildered still.
"King Crescent! Why it's your own horse, old Palo'mine. You won by half a nose, boy. It is the greatest race ever seen in Kentucky."