Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1895-10-17

IN ~ tAA~ go ~
pork chop and a light slab of light
bread that he had corraled just pre-
viously at the track kitchen. Being
young in years, but old in trespasses
and sin, Chips thoroughly understood
the drift of the preceding conversation
which might seem enigmatical TO a
novice. Not being supposed to be OH
the inside OF the deal. he diScreatly
rolled under the house as the two gen
tlemen separated, and appeared duly
surprised and elated when the colonel
called him up an hour later and told
him to get ready to ride the Irish
mare.
He replied merely, "Yesser," but
having worked his small black head
to some purpose, In the interval. slid
CF Immediately to his side partner,
buttons, in the stable boss quarters,
and on the promise Of ode hottest tip
what cher happened secured that
youths cOnnivanCe in stealing and
loading the magic dope syringe. I'm
mediately, when Buttons had crafti-
ly i~nstigated a dog fight in front OF
the stables that brought every hostler
out to e the fun, Chips slid into the
Irish mares stall and gave her a swift
but heavy shot OF morphine just down
by the big vein In the neck. where he
had often een II go before. BY the
time the Waterbury dog had chewed
the last remnant OF a left ear off his
rival from the Coup de-grace stables.
and the stable boss had kicked But
tons on suspicion of getting up the
scrap, the syringe was safe back in the
veterinary a S and nobody the wiser.
Buttons wept ostentatiously and i'm
mediately went off and borrowed
enough to play Mavourneen on Chips
recommendation. Meantime Chalker
and the colonel had discussed the pro-
liabilities, and were Jointly laying out
the last stamp in their roll on Tucka-
muck, a dark FLY of the Westmore-
land string.
Things went very much according
to programme. There was the endless
scuf Of feet I'm the betting ring as the
crowd edged back and forth in front
OF the blackbOards, to get the best
odds that were going. The boOkies
chalked up prices with one hand and
rubbed them out with the other. and
the sheet writer's behind the rail figur-
ed industriously. Bets were made in
monoSyllables as the talent found the
nerve and the coin. and now and then
some impatient layer OF odds across
the ring would sing out new odds.
Here you are! You've got seven
horses to beat Lady Lea! Lady Lea
against the fieldr'
The Irish mare had not been In II
till suddenly Cannogan, the colonel's
righthand man. came in on a run
from the paddock, and clawing his way
through the crowd. showed a roll OF
bills under Chalker's nose, and de-
manded In a hoarse, mysterious whis-
per, Gimme twenty-five Of Mavour-
neen!'
whats up. Camp queried a boy
about town in fiannels and a carnation
in his buttonhole. He liked to cali the
FOUNDERS by their nicknames and i'm
agine he stood In with them.
why, she's got tn dope. Lead pine
cinch at a hundred to one. Don't give
1t away" was the excited reply in a
stage whisper that everybody could
hear.
Thanks, old fell" said the boy about
town, ''guess I'll take a flyer on that
myself" And he did. So did half a
dozen others, and Chalker began to
look surprised, which he wasn't, and
back the odds down.
There was quite a wave OF excite
ment and everybody commenced to
play Mavourneen, while the money
was showed at Chalker faster than he
could take il. He kept judiciously
backing the odds down to 20, to 60, TO
so, and the crowd got frantic for fear
of not getting onto a good thing while
IL was going On. Not IN in a hundred
knew where the tip came from, but
they thought it must be hot because
everybody else did, and Chalker look
ed like old Hutch in a wheat furry. ,
Even Crackers. the genius of the
lunch stand, stopped shaking lemon
ade, and old Abe came out OF the tele-
graph Office i'm his shirt sleeves to
watch the excitement.
"Wot's upT' inquired Whitley.
"Hot thing on the Irish mare" was
the reply.
Anything I'm itT'
"Naw; got 'em hypnotized, that's
allr
I.
The wbirr of the electric bell cut
short the betting with the odds down
to 10 to / and the crowd crazy to get
it. Mr.. Chalker ran his fingers hur-
r;nJg, thrnn1h nio hair and haa va1 a