Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-11-01

nags.' he persisted. One Of 'em Skinned a
mile In so fiat last week. at Sacramento
He didn't appear to be kidding when he
said that. either.
one Of the layers. You want to find those
pages that're missing from your dream
book. Where did you smoke the fantasy
that you could win at Bay District with
Watch close. or somebody'll slip you a
brown ticket for the BOBBY hatch. Bay
District is damned with barnacles that can
do the mile In forty or better
Well, they're good nags, all right
stuck out the man with the all-in shoes.
Do spring the SIS to get EN- down here7'
He could see that it wasn't going to be
any sort Of use from the way they gazed
out. looking real pathetic and slow-mu-
sticky. SO he did.
Thought He Had a "Chanst."
"a couple Of afternoons later 1 happened
TO be behind him when he pushed into
booktes mitt bet on one of the cells en-
tered for the second race. The book
maker that he slipped the grimy five-spot
to had belonged to the party that gave the
chortle to the owner Of the land-crabs
when he made his all-around touch for the
$25.
"'Oh, you're playing 'em, them said the
bookie, giving the recognizing grin to the
one who looked like a down-ano-outer.
sacramento yet, Ell?
'Uh-huh-I dug 'em out replied the
man with the kicked-in hat. Inc one you
just give me this 80 to ticket on is one of
EN-
You're going to put 1t on the odds-on
plug in this sprint, them inquired the
layer. still wearing the oily grin.
I got a chanst,' replied the guileless
one, slouching Off.
His cayuse was the rancid outsider in
the sprint. He was a seven-year-old GEL
ding, and he looked as II his had been the
job Of hauling an ash wagon. He was tired,
tucked-up and sad-looking. A lummox of
a moon-faced apprentice boy that nobody
knew anything about was on the aged gel
ding. 1t was three-quarters scramble,
and the dismal-looking old nag clomped in
bad twelfth in the field Of twelve.
On the next day, in the fourth race, the
old gelding had to go again, with pretty
sweet field at the mile distance, anu this
time he was a 60 to chance, and nobody
buying. At post time, though, l saw the
around the ring tossing down two-buck
bets here and there on his widowed mutt.
and felt sorry for him. 1t looked like the
real pathos Of the gee-gee game to me.
him. too His piece of Parmesan finished
punk ninth in the field Of nine. beaten off
as far as from here to Fire Island.
Bookies Commiserate.
whats the use Of tossing your gilt. and
no rebate that way. matey" 1 heard one
of the bookies asking the down-and-out
one. why don't you flag it all and went
awayT
"'Oh, I got a chanst.' pig-headedly re-
peated the sad one. and OF he skunk again.
ION the following day he got his other
one out-the one that had worked that
mile UP. in Sacramento in fifty fiat. With
80 to 1 against this Edam. the ki-yi
brought up the rear. like fat man chas-
ing q horse and buggy.
We'll. when each of the hard-lucker's
hunks of animated glue had been in about
half dozen dashes. both of them always
finishing like steam-rollers painting up
hill, and the sad owner Shaping two and
f1ve-spots on them every time till the lay
ers hated to see him come around, they
ged up this way I thought that he'd get
hep and flag the game. But he was a
world-beater at the stay-with-it thing.
AT the beginning of the third week of
the meeting he had his old gelding in with
the pickest lot Of milers at Bay Dis
trict, and again I happened to be close
to him when he went around, as usual,
sticking little bets down on his horse. He
seemed to be quite fixed that day, too, for
he had a mittful of fives with him.
Selected His Own Odds.
'Whatcha laying me?' he asked the
bookie at the head of the line, and the
layer smiled sadly.
PAL he said. sympathetically, you
can scrawl your own pasteboard.
Much Obliged said the down-and-
outer. Hundred to one?
''Surest kind of thing that you ever
knew replied the bookie. and he reluc-
family accepted So worth of the mans
kale at 100 to l.
Now, 1 wasn't hep to anything at all
at that stage of it. But, Just out of Gu
riOSitV 7 trn6pad after q
in his tour of the books. When 1 saw
him slip in S100 in So bets on his poodle
to cop at the 100 to 1 figure, l kind of
wondered just a teenchy little bit, that's
all; just wondered a little bit. And l be-
gan to become quite a few interested in
the way that mile jog was going to even
tuate. 1 hiked up into the stand to get
a flash at the race from end to end
when the field paraded by 1 noticed
that the aged gelding looked quite a few
notches better than he'd ever showed up
before. Not that he had Sysonby or Sal
vator dashed to the mast on looks; but
he sure looked a-plenty better than he'd
looked before.
"At the first swish of the bunting they
got away on a level line. From the spring
of the barrier l could see that the old
gelding was under hydraulic pull, with
that moon-faced Jockeys toes wiggling up
around the old horses ears. and the geld
ing yelling murder and police for his head.
He wanted to just go, did that aged geld
ing:
But the moon faced boy was there with
the hold-outsky thing. He didn't turn the
old camel loose until the top of the stretch
was being paved by five or six of the SOON
ers of the field. Then the kid Embossed
about two dozen of the full gross of wraps
that he'd had on the old horse from the
drop of the rag. Then the gelding began to
show 'em that he'd been only fooling in
those other races. In eight jumps he made
the leader of the procession, and then he
came home like a chesapeake catamaran
under all shrouds in an on-shore squall.
Pulled to dead march, he COPIED by fif-
teen lengths, in track record time.
We'll, the people in the judges stand in