Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-02-23

| go wide at the turn; you can have my place; I'll make it wide for something else, though"
 They were at the post. XXXIII
 Cranes words had started train of thought in Langdons mind. All at once he remembered that the face of | Lauzannes rider had dream-Iike fa- miliarity. His owners suggestion that the boy was like Alan Porter echoed in his ears. He had wondered where | Dixon had got this new boy, why he l was putting him up on Lauzanne instead of Redpath. Could it be that it really was Alan? The whole family were nat ural-born jockeys, father and son, even the girl, Allis.
 While Langdon labored over the prob- ] lem of Mayne's identity he watched the horses at the post through his glasses. | The Dutchman was behaving we'll, his trifle Of eagerness to break away was even better than Lauzanne's indolent | indifference. The other five were act ing as three-year-olds are wont to act with cratic indecison; one minute vio- | lent desire, and the next obstinate reluc- tance characterizing their interminable twistings, backings and plungings. It | was not for long. Langdon's perplexity was cut short by the cry: They're off" the jingle of bell and the scurrying of many feet, as eager men rushed for l higher points of observation in the stand.
 As the seven horses came laundering l hxy iY,cr E1 in, ier,,r of the long journey that lay before them, Langdon saw with evil satisfaction that the Indian was well out in the lead. 1 The Dutchman was sixth, and behind, l with a short awkward strength in his gallop+ loafed Lauzanne.
 I That skate win!' Langdon sneered; The galops like fat pig. He can't live the pace-he can't live the pace," he l repeated. s
 1 His Observations seemed em1nenrly l truthful; Allis' horse trailed farther and l farther behind. Out i'll front galloped with unseeming haste the Indian, 8 1 brown blotch of swift-gliding color. Two lengths from his glinting heels l raced four horses in a bunch-two bays, l gray and a black; so close together 1 that they formed small mosaic oS mot l tied hue against the drab-gray back l ground of the course stables beyond. l Then The Dutchman, with his powerful 1 stride, full of easy motion.
 Up in the stand Old Bill was expressing in horid race-track speech to Mortimer l his deductions.
 'Dats good kid on Larcen. See what he's doin'; he's trailin 'em. Oats whefe our horse gifts it; he's stretch runner he is Dey'll have bellows to mend when he tackles 'em." ~
 To Mortimer it appeared very much as though the other horses were too fast for Lauzanne. Isn't he losing?" he l asked of his exuberant friend.
 ''Losin' nutin'! De kid ain't moved on him yet. De others is gallopin' der heads off; dey're cbasin' de crazy skate in front. Dere's only two jocks in de race worth a damn-Bill Westley an de kid on our horse. He knows he's got to beat Dutchy, an he's lyin' handy by When you see Dutchy move up Larcen'll come away, or I'm goat"
 Mike Gaynor had taken his place on the little platform at the top of the steps leading to the stand. He was watching the race with intense interest. 1 Would Lauzanne do his best for the l girl-or would he sulk? He saw the terrific pace that the Indian had set. Would 1t discourage their horse? His | judgment told him that this fast pace could not last, acd that JauZanne could gallop as he was going from end to end of tiie mile and a half: even faster If he so wished Would his rider have the patient steadiness of nerve to wait for this fulfllmeut of the inevitable? Mike set his teeth. and his nails were driven hard into his rough palms as he strained in sympathy with the girls quietude.
 How long the Indian held on n his mad lead! Perhaps even he might upset all clever calculation and last long enough to win. Already the gray, White Moth, had drawn out from tho bunch and was second; the other three were dropping back in struggling order to The Dutch man, who was still running as he had been, strong. That was at the mile. At the mile and an eighth White Moth was at the Indians heels; The Dutch man had moved up into third place, two lengths away; and Lauzanne had become merged in the three that were already beaten. At the mile and a quarter half thrill of hope came to Mike, for Lau- game was clear of the ruck, and surely gaining on the leaders. And still his rider was lying low on the withers, just blue blur on the dark gold of the chest nut.
 Bot t'umbs! but they're a pair," muttered the Irishman; "be me soul, t'ink they'll win.''
 At the bottom turn into the stretch Mike could see that White Moth and The Dutchman had closed up on the Indian, SO that they swung around the corner as one horse.
 "Gad, she's shut off" he muttered. 1t was living wall, and through little chinks in its quivering face he could see specks of blue close up where raced Lauzanne. hn