Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1897-04-01

mlu0s NOOVuy 0v0A Ao0 ouSAA ~ssA SseSs
a. those which collected with great
care at q small expense"
mo one ever accused you OF know
ing the game" said my friend, severe
ly. "You should only go out with .
barrel organ and monkey, being tied
to its tail. You might be clever enough
to take the pennies II the donors placed
them In your hand, closed 1t over them
tenderly, and swore you to secrecy.
But Fatty was perfect tradesman.
He was after the nimble ninepence
every time. He used to back his
platers when 1t was good enough to do
so; when not, he used to let other peo-
pie back them, and invest his money
on something else. 1t is a beautiful
game SO long as you can play it with
out danger from the mob or from the
stewards"
"Who was 'Fatty's' trainer?" asked.
feeling confident that position was not
sinecure.
"Why, surely you know" retorted the
historian. FATTY would, Of course,
only have one sort of trainer-a man
who would do as he was told without
asking questions. Old Jerry Smiggins,
of Ripston, realized his ideal of that
character. You remember Jerry-he
always seemed to be trying to best
somebody, and Yas generally in debt.
Talk about the very warm members,
he could give most of them start over
what is called "a rogue's course and
make hacks Of 'em when it came to
pure thieving. I should not like to be
a dying man engaged in cuddling my
money-bags for the last time if Jerry
were in the sick chamber watching my
struggles. He would accelerate my
doom to obtain the treasure"
"And how did his employer trust
him." inquired, for I had a little
knowledge of the Ripston trainer, and
recognized that the elegant smile as
to the peril of the moribund person
toying with his cash deposits was not
an exaggeration. Indeed, Jerry would
no doubt have also removed any false
teeth that might have been in the I'M
fortunate persons jaws, so as to get
the gold to bet with.
"Trust him." replied my informant;
"well, you know how far such men
trust each other. Like one hungry dog
trusts a hungrier one in sight of an
odorous bone. So long as both could
get bite they do not worry each other
as to which secured the most pestifer-
GUS portion. They went on we'll for a
time, and 'Fatty's' nose reflected his
prosperity to a marked extent; it
beamed upon us in the paddock and as
sumed more colossal proportions and
brighter tints as it's owner put on
flesh and added to his balance at the
bank. Then came the picturesque in
cident at Camptown Park previously
limited at"
Here the orator took breath and ex-
banded his chest before embarking on
the more exciting part of his recital.
Refreshed by the rest, he continued:
"'Fatty' had one of his platers in a
selling race at Camptown, and on the
book it had a great chance. According
ly, the public made his horse favorite,
and backed it down to even money in
a large field of runners. Fatty could
not stand that; he did not care for
even money chances. So, after confer
ring with his trainer, he gave him in
structions to the effect that the favor
lite need not exert himself unduly in
the race, and that precautionary meas
ures might wisely be adopted with that
end (the wrong end) in view. Having
arranged matters to his satisfaction,
the astute owner of the favorite went
into the ring and backed horse which
he believed was a certainty while his
candidate enacted the part Of spectator.
A jockey who would listen to reason
when it took the form of ready money
was riding the favorite. Therefore it
was that when the horse cantered to
the post Fatty felt slightly above him
self-his usual sensation when he con-
sidered that he was backing one Ger
tainty in a race, and laying against
another certain not to win.
"The result of the race, however, was
not what he desired. The favorite had
more in hand than his owner or train
er thought. His jockey could not quite
hold him; thus he found himself near
home in view Of the public before he
was able to get pull. It was then too
late, pull as hard as he could. People
would see him; he might be warned
off. Naturally fearing that disaster,
he sat down and rode finish of con-
siderable merit, making dead heat
of it. You may imagine his employ
er's awful sensations. He had backed
one of the dead-heaters to win large
stake; he had laid against the other
to. lose lot of money!
"Then Jerry Smiggins appeared in
the paddock, and held conference with
his patron. The result seemed salts
factory to the latter; he whispered q
few words to his trainer, and Jerry
hurried away again as though on a
mission of Importance. It was so, for
that dead heat was never run off,"