The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1903-04-29
STOPPING RUNAWAYS
HOW THE NEW YORK PARK POLICE
HORSE ENJOYS THE WORK.


The story of n Glorious Run That
VIVA Only an Incident In the Life
of skipper-A Race That Ended In
the Capture of the Runaway Roam.
How the horses of the New York
park mounted policemen enjoy catch
ing runaways, which is the most excit-
ing part of their work. is told by Sewell
Ford in Horses Nine" The author
Gays Of his equine hero:
For half an hour at time he would
stand just on the edge of the roadway
and Mt an exact angle with it notion
less as the horse ridden by the bronze
soldier up near the mall. Reddy
would sit as still in the saddle too. 1t
was hard for Skipper to stand there
and see those mincing cobs go by, their
pad housings all a-glitter, crests on their
binders, jingling their pole chains and
switching their absurd little stubs of
tails. But 1t was still more tantalizing
to watch the saddle horses canter past
In the soft bride path on the other side
of the roadway. But, then, when you
are on the force you must do your
duty.
One afternoon as Skipper was stand.
Ing post like this he caught new note
that rose above the hum of the park
traffic. 1t was the quick, nervous beat
of hoofs which rang sharply on the
hard macadam. There were screams
too. II was a runaway. Skipper knew
this even before he saw the bell-like
nostrils, the straining eyes and the
foam flecked lips of the horse or the
scared man In the carriage behind. 1t
was case of broken rein
How the sight made Shippers blood
tIngle! Wouldn't he just like to show
that crazy roam what real running vast
But what was Reddy going to do? He
felt him gather up the reins. He felt
his knees tighten. What Yes, 1t must
be SO. Reddy was actually going to try
a brush with the runaway. What funl
Skipper pranced out into the road.
way and gathered himself for the
sport. Before he could get into full
swing, however, the roam had shot past
with n snort of challenge which could
not be misunderstood.
OhOs iOu VIII, tuE
per. "Well now. we'll see about that"
All, free reinl That is-almost free.
And touch of the spursl No need for
that, Reddy. How the carriages scat
ter! Skipper caught hasty glimpses of
smart hackneys drawn up trembling
by the roadside, of women who tum-
bled from bicycles into the bushes and
Of men who ran and shouted and
waved their hats.
'Just as though that little roam
wasn't scared enough already" thought
Skipper.
But she did run well. Skipper had to
admit that. She had a lead of fifty
yards before he could strike his best
gait. Then for q few moments he
could not seem to gain an inch. But
the mare was blowing herself, and
Skipper was taking it coolly. He was
putting the pent up energy of weeks
into his strides. Once he saw he was
overhauling her he steadied to the
work.
Just as Skipper was about to forge
ahead Reddy did a queer thing. With
his right hand he grabbed the roam
with nose pinch grip, and with the
left he pulled in on the reins. 1t was a
great disappointment to Skipper, for
he had counted on showing the roam
his heels. Skipper knew after two or
three experiences of this kind that this
was the usual thing.
Those were glorious runs, though.
Skipper wished they would come more
often. Sometimes there would be two
and even three in day. Then a fort
night or so would pass without single
runaway on Shippers beat. But duty
is duty.