The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1900-08-12
hand, and am certainly going to play
the game through"

last day of summer racing. The flowers
on the lawns had never been so bril-
liant, the turf SO green and velvety, the
throng in stand and clubhouse quite 50
distinguished, nor that in the free field
quite so overlooking with pure jollity
and delight in sport. The day had been
clear and white hot, as BELTS Augustus
farewell but toward O'Clock a delicate
notified white cloud dimmed without
chilling the streaming sunshine. There
was barely wind enough to fiutter the
flags upon their stats, and to ruffle the
dusty leaves uton the trees around the
course.
Here or there in convenient forks and
crotches, adventurous lads sat snug. From
their elevation they had even a sort OF
pity for the folk in the stand and club
house. No doubt it was fine to sit there
but not to compare with this perch upon
swaying boughs where all the happen
ings of the park were in plain and proper
sight. The fine people could see no more
than the start and the finish. The tree
haunters watched everything with avid
eyes, and heard all the gossip OF track
and stables, with eager ears.
1t was retailed literally directly under
meath them. Trainers houses are CEN
tiers of inside turf knowledge. Today there
was one overwhelming topic, common
alike to training quarters, clubhouse,
paddock, stand, and free feld-Bascom' S
foolish laying against the Brave. Not
withstanding, he was odds-on, in all the
other books, Bascom wrote him 5 to 4.
AS consequence he was nearly swamped
| by the rush of layers. He would have
| been quite sWamped, but that he had
| taken the precaution from the beginning
to lay only ON the event of the Search
| light.
1.-THE fellows mad; quite mad, COM
| mented the pursy man, as he pocketed
| slip made out for thousand. Plenty
of others thought and said the same
thing, but as the supposed mailman had
the name of being shrewdly far-sighted,
and further, had money to burn, they
also made their wagers, and did not
make them small. Bascom smiled at
| them, as he gave out the slips. He was
not writing himself, neither was 'Driese.
| He had half dozen elerks-and even then
there was waiting. He stood little
stopped and spoke now and then in
whispers to young Vaux.
mo more bets after the call to post!
mean to see this race-if never see
another" he shouted, as he heard, the
| saddling bell. The mob of bettors an
swered with howl A fellow book maxi
er shouted across:
Say, Bascom, you're mighty good all
at once, throwing away your money to
keep the rest of us from losing. But you
needn't expect us to pass round the hat
for you. If a man goes broke with his
eyes open, he deserves what he gets
Sometimes" Bascom said composedly.
Dries turned white. Get away at once!
! Go outside Your face tells tales" Bas-
com said, pushing the lad almost rough
ly away 'Driese went laggardly, life
less and with hanging head. He was
always pale Now the pallor was sort
of ivorne tint more CHASTITY than death.
He crept to the lawns farthest edge.
and flung himself at length upon the
grass, pressing both hands hard over
his eyes before he opened their dark
/ fringed lids.
/ He lay there, outwardly quiet, full of
riotous tremors, until Bascom stopped
and touched him on the shoulder.
'Stand upH' he said imperatively.
watch them go by! We must get out
of this everything that is in it. 1t is
| SOLHelNlUS-lO ucdl lON IAC SAN"N wa
cheer for The Brave
He spoke very low, and ended with a
faint chuckle. 'Driese rose, staggering
a little, clutched the lawn fences, and
hung little over it. Ripping huzzas
heralded the advancing racers. Up and
down for a full quarter of mile the
course was thronged either side You
might have walked the distance upon
! hna q
hard toward the dun earthen river
/ Eleven horses came along it. Suleiman
and The Brave ought to have made the
! field smaller, but there was the glorious
uncertainty of the sport to save owners
and trainers from being frightened out
| So black and bay and gray and chest
nut, sorrels in a variety, and even a
| dappled gray, came mincing and pranc-
| ing ON, necks arched, coats shining
| glddery smooth, with jockeys all IN
fre-new colors as gorgeous as a tulip
bed in April bloom.
The cheering rose and fell irregularly
until Suleiman swept in vew-then II
rose shrill, and ear-piercing, with an
urdernote of defiance. Suleimhn had
gone back in the books to threes. AT
that there were big bets on him-bets
made by track commissioners for mys-
! FERROUS patrons out of town. 1t was the
| fancy who picked him winner said the
popular voice The talent to man
pinned it's hopes and risked its Search
light money on The Brave.
And how they cheered him when the
camel Last of all, looking finer than
silk, filter than ever he had ever looked
sweet temuered as a lamb, not even
snatching on the bit, but caracoline
along as though keeping time to the
wildly ringing shouts! Bascom even drew
a hard breath as he listened. 'Driese
| shut his eyes tight a second, and lei
his head droop So Bascom touched his
hanging hand and said in fierce whis-
per: On you! Brace up! Don't you
won't you see. it's for you | am doing
this? / want to quit to make an end
and good end, to this wretched mas
querade of ours
'Driese stood up, a flicker of lambent
red in either cheek Il have not COM
| planned" he said. 'No!-thats the
worst of it," Bascom retorted still in
whisper: "You forget though was a
! gentleman-once. 1t hasn't been pleas
ant for me-sendng my wife about, TO