Omaha daily bee., 1902-07-27
Thoroughbred
BY ". A. FRASER.
Author Of "The Outesst," 'MOOswa." and other Stories.
By VI. A. FRASER.

copyright 1902 by Mcclure, Phillips & Coz
He passed through the narrow gate lead
ing from the paddock TO the grandstand.
The gatekeeper nodded pleasantly 70 him
and said: Hope you'll do the trick With
the little mare, sir. I'm twenty years at
this business, and 1 haven't got over my
likin' for an honest horse and an honest
owner yet"
There was a covert insinuation Of sus-
picion, albeit a kindly one, In the mans
voice. The very air was full OF the faint
Of crookedness; else why should the Official
speak Of honesty at all? Everyone knew
that John Porter raced to win.
He crossed the lawn and leaned against
the course fence to take a deciding look at
the mare and the chestnut as they circled
past the stand In the little view-promenade
which preceded the race.
His trained eye told him that Lausanne
was a grand-looking horse; big. well-sloped
shoulders, reached back toward the huge
quarters until the small racing saddle al
most covered the short back. What great
promise Of weight-carrying was there!
He laughed a little at the irrelevanee OF
this thought. for it was not q question OF
weIght-carryin at all; 2-year-olds at a
hundred pounds in a sprint Of only five fur
longs. Speed was the great factor TO be
considered; and surely Lucretia outclassed
the other In that way. The long, well
ribbed up body, with Just a trace OF gaunt1
ness In the flank; the slim neck; the deep
chest; the broad, fat canon bones and the
vell-let down hooks, giving a length OF
thigh like a greyhound, and the thighs them
selves. as John Porter looked at them under
the tucked-up belly Of the gentle mare, big
and strong and full Of driving force, that
should make the others break a record to
beat her.
From the inquisition Of the owners study
Luoretia stood forth triumphant; neither
the chestnut nor anything else in the race
could beat her. And Jockey McKay-Porter
raised his eyes involuntarily, seeking for
some occult refutation Of the implied dis
honesty of the boy he had trusted. He
found himself gazing straight into the small
shifty eyes Of Lucretia's midget rider, and
such A hungry. wolhsh look Of mingled cum
ming and cupidity was there that Porter
almost shuddered.
The insinuations Of Mike Gaynor and the
other things that pointed at a Job being on
hadn't half the force Of the dishonesty tnat
was so apparent in the t~ell-tale look OF the
morally irresponsible boy In whose hands
he was so completely helpless.
All the careful preparation Of the mare,
the economical saving, even to the self
denial of almost necessary things to the end
that he might have funds to back her
heavily when she ran; and the high trials
she had given him when asked the question,
and which had gladdened his heart and
brought an explanation of satisfaction from
his phlegmatic trainer; the girlish interest
OF his daughter In the expected triumph;
all these contingencies were as less than
49, - ..NkH \ IaAI ~ q
demon In his eyes, not ride straight and
honest.
Even then II was not too late to ask the
stewards to set Mckay down. But what
proof had be to offer that there was any
thing wrong? The boys good name would
be blasted should he, John Porter, say at
the last minute that he did not trust him;
and perhaps the lad was innocent. Race
people were so ready to cry out that a
Jockey was hxed-that there was something
wrong, when their own judgment was at
fault and they lost.
Suddenly Porter gave a cry OF astonish-
ment: my God!" he muttered, 1.-The boy
has got spurs on. Thatll set the mare
clean crazy"
He turned to Dixon, who was at his ell
bow. why did you let Mckay put on the
steels?"
81 told him not to-"
He's got them on
They've got to come of, and the trainer
dashed up the steps to the stewards. In
two minutes he returned, a heavy frown
on his face.
"wellT' queried Porter.
eve made a mess Of it, answered Dixon,
s~ullenly. "It seems there's hints of 8 Job
on, an the stewards have got the wrong
AA1 ~ NkA eNtrL
They refused to let the mare go back
to the paddock" oueried Porter.
Eyes; an one OF them said that II the
trainers would stick closer to their horses
an keep out Of the bettin' ring that the
public d get q better run for their money"
I'm sorry. Andy" said Porter, consol-
ingly.
tits pretty tough on me. but it's worse
on you. sir. That boy hadn't spurs when
he weighed, an there's the rankest kind Of
q Job on, I'll take me OATH"
We've got to stand It, Andy"
''That we have; we've just got to take
cur medicine like little men. Even II we
make a break an take Mckay on. there
isn't another good boy left. II he jabs
the little mare with them steels she'll go
clean crazy"
"It's my fault, Andy. I guess I've saved
ana pettea her d OIL TOO much' but bhf
never needed spurs-She'd break her heart
trying without them.
"By ~" muttered Dixon, as he wen.
back to the paddock. "tf the boy stops the
mare he'll never get another mount II
ear help IT. It's this sort OF thing tina
kills the whole business Of racing, Here's
stable that's straight from owner ia
exercise boy and now likely TO throw dowr
the public and stand a chance OF getting
ruled on ourselves because OF a gambling