Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1895-08-30
HOW THE LA RUE STAKES WERE
LOST

The nag laQ dropped almost DeIOIt DIZZY
had expected it and the race for the La
Rue stakes began.
II did not seem possible that the first
rush OF that flying field of thoroughbreds
could please the critical starter, but it did
Settler was well over on the outside, and
the little mite of a Billy, the rider, was
clinging close over the slender neck of his
first mount, with his whole heart and
mind and soul bent on winning the race.
Only once had he glanced up from the
course since he cantered Settler from the
saddling paddock As they had passed
the grand stand, Billy had looked up, al
most Involuntary, toward the private box
where Settlers handsome young owner
sat surrounded by fascinating group of
ladies, who waved their handkerChiefs
frantically as the graceful mare Hoped by.
Billy raised his whip in salute, and reCeiv-
ed in response from the man he almost
worshiped an encouraging smile and a
swing of the hand
The race meant so much to Billy. 1t
meant good deal,o course, to young Bur
nett, for the purse was a big one, and in
his little financial expressions of conf
dence with various other men who had
opinions on horses he had valued the
mares speed very highly. But, after all,
money didn't matter SO very much to
man like Jean Burnett He would rather
have had the mare win honestly without
the money than lose with it, But to Billy
it seemed as if the whole world and all
that life held dear to him hung on the re
suit.
1t was only a few months since Billy
had had occasion to feel much responsible
ity. The elder Billy" Hodge his other
name was-had been a pretty successful
jockey on the other side; nothing start
ling, no very great reputation, but a good,
honest, clever rider.
He had never won the Derby; in fact, if
the truth were told, he had never even had
a mount on that famous course. He had
earned enough to keep Billy and Billy 5
mother in tolerable comfort, and But little
more.
Burnett had seen him ride some races at
provincial town in which he CHANGED to
be tarrying, and, though the mans mounts
were poor, had been struck with the cool
ness and good judgment with which they
were handled He strolled down to the
jockeys quarters after the race and had a
little talk with the man The elder Billy
had only succeeded in bringing his inferior
mount in for second place. and he was feel
ing a good deal discouraged Burnett
could see well that with such horse a
good many riders would have been shut
out altogether, and he wondered very log
ically, if the man could get so much ont of
an inferior mount, why he wouldn't be
likely to have pretty coed success with
animals such as were in the Burnett sta
bles on the other side of the Atlantic.
The young man did not find the elder
Billy very retcent as to himself. That
was peculiar thing about Burnett There
was a sincerity and an honesty about him
which somehow inspired confidence. The
elder Billy was blue. Past middle age, and
with ambition such as only jockey can
have, he saw himself growing old unap-
preciated, with no reputation and no op-
poriunities.
"Ive about made up me mind to give il
hup on this side" he said. "Hit's no use
tryin'. Their don't seem to be no chance
'Ow do you think I'd get along in Hamer,
ica?"
Young Burnett thought-in fact he was
pretty sure, to tell the truth, he knew-that
the Jockey would get along all right, and
he said so. He did not engage him on the
spot. He had had one tilt with the alien
contract labor law, and he did not care tC
take any more chances.
'Come and see me when you get on the
other side" he said. 81 think / can bt
of service to you" And he gave him hi.
card.
He didn't even know then that there
was Mrs. Billy, or Billy the younger
in fact, he straightway forgot all about the
entire matter.
One morning, quite good many month:
later, Burnett's man came into his employ
er's library and stood quietly awaiting re C.
ignition. Burnett, in smoking-jacke anC
slippers, had Just settled down at his des /
to the task of answering and figuring OF
the pile of letters and invitations which
had been accommodating for two days. II,
scowled vigorously as he wrestled with the
problem of taking run on Heyesbury'
new yacht that afternoon and dining a
Mrs Droysen's at six. He deucedly want
ed TO be on deck at the trial trip of hi
friend Heytesbury's new flier, but he knew
that he could not get back in time to dress
for dinner, and the prospect of losing al
opportunity of dining at the same tabl,
with Miss Eunice Droysen was far from
being an argument in favor of the wate
trip.
Ii was while he was wrestling with thi
problem and making numerous vain time
calculations on the backs of Handsomely
embossed envelopes that he glanced up anC
discovered his man. "Well, MacMasters?'
''Pardon me for disturbing you, sir, blu
there is a little fellow here who's callet
about a dozen times to see you. View
sent him away always, but he keeps com
ing back, sir He won't tell us what b,
wants. Says he must see you, because it
very important. He's a little English lad
/ think, and he has one of your cards, tn
style you used when we were across las
fall"
"Did you ask his Nance"
e"I did not, sir. Shall l 60 down an
ask it?'
eyes, ! fancy you'd better" An
young Burnett settled himself 10 figurin
whether he could start on the cruise an
be set ashore down the coast and catch
train back to the city in time for the din
ner, when his man returned and said, "H
says his name is Hodge, sir
Eyes, sir, # you please-Billy 'Odge
And little Billy, who had followed tn
man noiselessly up the stairway struggle
TO the front
"Wen, my little man." remarked Blu
nett, smiling down at him over his shOu
der, "what did you want to see me fo
and where did you get this card?'
'It's one you gave me dad, sir, over
England. E was a jockey, if you please
sir, an e were comm to ride for you"
"Oh, yes. Yes, yes, l remember. An
where is yonr fatherP
"'E's dead, sir Died comm over. =
admit been well for some years, sir, an