Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-06-02

with him, and then he began to make some
inquiries of the lad to how the races
were run. The boy knew it all, of course,
and he started In to put the old gentleman
hep. He touted his dad on to a 80 to l
thing In the third race, and the old man
shredded ten-spot from his wad and sent
ii along on his first-born's selection. The
20 to thing came home under reefed
tops'ls.
We'll. that win came pretty close to
driving Mike Dugan back to the pick and
shovel, that he had dropped years before
to embark in the rum business. For the
remainder OF the afternoon he skidded the
coin along on his sons picks, and at the
windup of the day he was nearly $1,000 to
the right. He took the boy home with
him and they spent half the night over
the dope charts. handicapping the next
days races. His beginners streak lasted
for a couple of months, and then all of
sudden he butted into sandbar. The
$4,000 that had simply zephyred into his
clothes during the two months began to
breeze the other way. and inside of
month he was not only all Of his winnings
to the worse, but he was drawing checks
on his savings bank. But there wasn't any
curl up In Mike He had the Mulligan in
stinct that the time to peel the coat ana
get into the shirt sleeves Is when the
rough house is underway, and though he
was getting all of the dents at the uphill
game he plOdded along
He had $4,000 in the savings bank and
that went. Then he was all In, except the
saloon. He tackled his wife on the prop
ostion of putting her name alongside OF
his to mortgage of 5000 on the saloon
property. and she came so close to biting
one of Mikes arms off that there wasn't
any fun in it. But he finally bamboozled
her into 1t, after several days of en-
deavor and the mortgage was fixed up
with her name to it, The 5000 was p pau
to Mike and he went out to the track with
the whole wad.
"OConnell. the noted old sprinter, was
carded to go in the first race, and that name
was good enough for Mike. He announced
70 who with him. that the
whole $1,000 was going on OConneli,
straight, and then the son tried to PICK a
fight with the old man so that they would
both be arrested. The son couldn't see
OConnell. who was then pretty old and
proppy, to win and he thought that his dad
was twirly. anyhow, for wanting to soak
waterfront saloons in Brooklyn on the out
come of one sprint. Maybe the son was
right. but I'm only telling the story as 1t
happened. The son didn't get away with
his attempt to mix his dad UP in a mussy
scene, and the old man ploughed down to
the ring with his $1,000 and scattered 1t
around on OConnell. mostly at to l.
$1,000 bill at clip with the different pig
noise books. When Mike got through max
ing that round O'Connells price stood at
to l. and the holiday players. imagining
that the plungers in the know had walloped
down the price, went to the OConnell thing
for tens of thousands. They had no means
of knowing that the cutting of the to l
figure had been caused by the old harp with
the piece Of mortgage chance In his broad
cloth clothes, who was due to hustle for
lob with his discarded pick and shovel If
O'Connell didn't happen to feel like running
that afternoon. The old man didn't get all
of his down at 8 to 1, but pretty near 1t,
and when he nudged out to the lawn to
watch the race he stood to connect with
something close to 800
"OConnell came home on the chin-strap. |
and Mike collected. Then he went outside
the track shook his horny fist at the
Gravesend grandstand hoped a trolley car
for his ginmill, took off his coat and began |
to tend bar, and he has never seen the JIM |
side of a racetrack from that day to this |
He quit to the good but he had got his. and
he couldn't see any more of It, But he |
might have gone back to the pick and |
shovel at that had he been a piker with |
bale-stick to the Jonah-doo that had been |
gripping him.
The Tale Of a New York Owner.
This Poverty Dick maxim about putting
all of your eggs in one basket doesn't often
work out on racetracks, anyhow. I've been
watching the thing for more years than I'm
going to Tess up to- and I've observed that
It's the fellows who are game to take just
that kind of chance who get away with it
more often than not
There was an owner down at the old
ST Louis fair grounds track who had been
rassling with the in-bad devil for three
straight years. and the thing at length be-
gan to jangle him some His string of
fourteen platers and one stake horse had
dWindled down to the stake horse alone. |
This one was a crippled four-year-old with
the scalps Of the best horses in the west
dangling from his surcingle. but his feet
were so uncertain on account of the hard
CAMPAIGNS he'd been subjected to that he
became an in-and-outer. When the track
didn't burn his feet he'd always deposit
the goods right on the doorstep, but when
his old legs began TO get het up he'd stop
and look over the fence and pick out
punches of soft grass with his eye. The
day came when the horse entered for
one of the big ST Louis handicaps, in which
some of the cracks of the west were carded,
something like ten or dozen or them.
The horses owner didn't have nickel to
bet his good old grub-grabber, and he
liked his horses chance at the weights.
There weren't any clew-lines on his nerve,
either. and so he dug up Barney Schneider,
who had the big-store book going at the
time.
Barney said the busted owner, chew
Ing on straw just as If he had some
thing, what dye reckon that old plug of
mine Is worth in real duff-not milk tickets
or rain checks or stage kale, but money?
He'd be worth $4,000 If his props were
right, Jack replied Barney, but he's too
dicky on his pins after the way you've been
mauling him to be worth much in any
mans shed now.
I'm asking you what you think he's
worth right now. Barney said the owner
"'Oh. If you stood him on the block you
might be able to pull down couple of
thousand for him.. said Barney. Why are
you inquiring? Want to sell him?'
mot on your Teutonic map do want to
sell him.. said the owner. but l sure want
to hook him hull lot. What price are you
going to lay against him today
oh. bout 10 to L. replied Schneider.
"'Ch-huh. said the owner. Well, you
chalk me on your sheet $4,000 that he
don't cop today. If he doesn't, he's your
nag, and hope you'll see that he gets some
occasional carrots and clean straw to rest
on-he's been mighty good to me. If he
wins. me for 100000. On?'
ON replied Barney, who didn't give
the horse the ghost of chance to win, and
who felt an itch to possess the horse for
breeding purposes.
The old horse won that handicap in a
parade by eight lengths. with his head "a
swinging and If you like to hear good
strong language, expressed In the German
tongue, you ought TO have been anywhere
within two Salt Lake City blocks of Barney
Schneider after that race, when he had to
dig up S2n.ouO for the owner who'd had the
/ nerve to put all of his eggs in one basket.