The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1902-10-08


to send them to the front. They run
we'll following, but when leading can
not be trusted, and. besides, broncho
hates a bridge. so Sandy holds them
where they are, waiting and hoping for
his chance after the bridge is crossed.
Foot by foot the citizens team creep
up upon the flank Of the bays, with the
pintos in turn hugging them closely, till
it seems as if the three, if none slack
ems, must strike the bridge together,
and this will mean destruction to one
at least. This danger Sandy perceives,
but he dare not check his leaders. Sud-
Baptiste throws himself upon the lines,
wrenches them out Of Sandy's hands
and. with 4 quick swing. faces the pin
tos down the steep side Of the ravine,
which is almost sheer ice with a thin
coat OF snow. 1t is a daring course to
take. for the ravine, though not deep,
is full Of underground and is partially
closed up by brush heap at the far
ther end. But. with a yell, Baptiste
hurls his four horses down the slope
and into the underground. "Allons,
mes enfants! Courage! Vite! Vitew
cries their driver. and nobly do the pin
tos respond.
Regardless Of bushes and brush
heaps. they tear their way through,
but as they emerge the high bob sleigh
catches root. and, with q crash, the
sleigh is hurled in the air. Baptiste's
cries ring out high and shrill as ever,
encouraging his team, and never cease
till. with a plunge and scramble, they
clear the brush heap lying at the
mouth Of the ravine and are out on the
ice on the river, with BaDtiste standing
on the front bob, the box trailing be-
hind and Sandy nowhere to be seen.
Three hundred yards Of the course re-
main. The bays, perfectly handled,
have gained at the bridge and in the
descent to the ice and are leading the
citizens team by half 4 dozen lengths.
Behind both comes Baptiste. It is now
or never for the pintos. The rattle Of
the trailing box. together with the
wild yelling Of the crowd rushing
down the bank, excites the bronchos
to madness, and, taking the bits in
their teeth, they do their first free run
ming that day. Past the citizens team
like a whirlwind they dash, clear the
intervening space and gain the fanks
Of the bays. Can the bays hold them?
Over them leans their driver, plying
for the first time the Kissing lash.
Only fifty yards more. The miners be-
gin to yell. But Baptiste, waving his
lines high in one hand, seAes his toque
with the other, whirls it about his head
and fings it with a fiercer yell than
ever at the bronchos. Like the burst
ing Of q hurricane the pintos leap for
ward and with a splendid rush cross
the scratch, winners by their own
length.
There was wild quarter Of an hour.
The shanty men had torn off their
coats and were waving them wildly
and tossing them high, while the
ranchers added to the uproar by emp
tying their reyolvers into the air in a
way that made one nervous.
When the crowd was somewhat
quieted, Sandys stiff figure appeared,
slowly making toward them. A dozen
lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inQuir-
ing If he were hurt But Sandy could
only curse the little Frenchman for
losing the race.
"Lost! Why, man, we've won it!'
shouted voice, at which Sandy's rage
vanished, and he allowed himself to
be carried in upon the shoulders Of his
admirers.
'Where's the lad?" was his first ques-
ton.
"The bronchos are off with him. Hes
down at the rapids like enough"
"Let me gor' shouted Sandy, setting
off at a run in the track Of the sleigh.
BE had not gone far before be met
Baptiste coming back with his team
foaming, the roans going quietly, but
the bronchos dancing and eager to be
at it again.
"Voila! Bully boy! Tank the bon
Dieu, Sandy. You not keel, eh? All,
you are one grand chevaier" exclaim-
ed Baptiste, hauling Sandy in and
thrustng the lines into his hands. And
80 they came back, the sleighbox still
dragging behind, the pintos executing
fantastic figures on their hind legs and
Sandy holding them down. The little
Frenchnan struck a dramatic attitude
and called out:
"Yoila! What's the matter wiz San
dy, heh?"
The roar that answered set the bron-
chos off again plunging and kicking,
and only when Baptiste got them by
the heads could they be induced to
stand long enough to allow Sandy to be
proclaimed winner of the race. Sever
al Of the lumbermen sprang into the
sleighbox with Sandy and Baptste,
among them Keefe, followed by Mel
son, and the first part of the great DAY
was over. Slavin could not understand
the new order Of things. That great
event like the four horse race should
not be followed by drinks all round
was to him at once disgusting and in
comprehensive, and, realizing his de-
feat for the moment, he fell into the
crowd and disappeared. But he left be-
hind him his runners. He had not yet
thrown up the game.
Mr.. Craig meantime came to me and'
looking after Sandy in his sleigh, with
his frantic crowd Of yelling admirers,
said in a gloomy voice:
"Poor Sandy! He is easily caught,
and Keefe has the devils cunning"
"He won't touch Slavin's whisky to-
day." I answered confidently.
taThere'll be twenty bottles waiting
him in the stable" he replied bitterly,
"and can't go following him up. He
won't stand that. No man would. God
help US alll'
could hardly recognize myself, for
I found in my heart an earnest echo to
4n