Evening star., 1923-09-30

She'S comm.
There was the mare through the
breach at the rail as Terry Morgan
swung Nitromite wide to force Bit
tersweet out
She fairly flew with a light, 1.-the
stride that contrasted widely with
the heavy labored pounding of the
great black horse. AT the sixteenth
she thrust her nose to the fore. The
! jockey on the colt realized too late
that his race was with her instead
of the big black horse. Bittersweet
| shot after her as Nitromite faltered
in his stride. The flying mare swept
under the wire a neck to the good.
| Tobin's Nitromite finished half a
length behind the colt.
The crowd forgot the money it had
| placed on Nitromite and gave the
mare and the colt tremendous ova-
ton.
Old man Tobin, red of face and red
of eye, went charging UP the steps to
the judges loft. The judges withheld
announcement of the order of finish.
Hey, Tom.'' said Feedbox, plucking
4 at the trainers shoulder, Il think
| tHey II WduL you up mere.
Tom waited. In a moment mes
senger came through the crowd from
the judges stand, but, instead of
Appleton, he beckoned to the Feedbox
Fool. There's the dickens to pay"
he whispered. "Old man Tobin's on
the warpath."
| Come on, Tom" Feedbox replied.
Both Of them went to. the loft VIII
loughby Tobin paused in TRADE to
the judges as they appeared on the
/ steps.
Here he is. here he is, the rat" he
squalled, shaking a fat finger at the
Feedbox Fool. Now let him tell
what he knows. Let him tell whether
he fixes jockeys to throw horse races
for honest men,"
The Feedbox Fool winked at Tobin
as the last two words came from his
| mouth.
! I'VE didn't send for you," said one of
the judges. addressing Appleton.
Il came on my own hook" Appleton
replied. respectfully. IT had a mare
win race out here just now, and
came up to see why her number is
| not hung out"
You, you, why -Tobin could
only splutter.
Just minute" said the same judge
who had spoken to Appleton. Feed
box. Mr., Tobin here charges you with
| fixing his Jockey. Says you told his
son that Terry Morgan would pull
NitromiA. Says you told him to bet
I nv Ctr-nn n% a.
| that true?"
IT'S true that 1 said those things"
! admitted Feedhox calmly. Terry
! couldn't pull that fire horse. That's a
joke. I told your boy that just to
| make you look like a sucker"
Look at the finish, look at the An
ish." exclaimed Tobin. call up the
boy, send for Morgan. This tout here
has got to be expelled. TIL see
1 that ss
Help yourself, Mr.. Tobin," sair
| Feedbox quietly.
| GCUPPosE." suggested one OF the
- judges, that you explain your
self, Feedbox"
Hldu ", IL YOU IL keep MIN quiet,
| agreed the Fool. Listen, I been at
this track fifteen years and never
| crooked anybody. see? Well. this guy
| gypped my kid brother, get me? You
! know aboutsthat. The kid got pneu-
| monia, and typhoid, and finally t. b.,
all on account of Mister Tobin. Had
] him barred, and the kids been sick
/ ever since. Kicked on me racing q
horse at this track under my own
name. You know that. And then he
/ doubled the rent on my kid brother
| and his wife, and him sick and her
/ nursing him. Doubled it, get me?
| With him sick and not able to move"
Whats all this got to do with the
race, hey?" yelled Tobin. Let him
! tell about the race-cut this string of
! lies"
Hes getting to the race" inter-
| posed one Judge.
We'll, then, I got Tom Appleton
| here to enter my mare for me under
his colors, see? And he finds out
| Mister Tobin's big black horse Is in."
said the Fool. "At mile. and a half.
| That's a long ways. So I'm talkin'
to Terry Morgan three days ago, see?
He's got rheumatism SO bad he can
! hardly lift a cup of coffee to his face.
And they put him on hard-mouthed,
! heavy-headed runaway horse. get me?
All right And my mare"
| ITO blazes with your mare" NUT
| tered Tobin.
| MY mare" Feedbox said, "is nine
| years old. Every race she ever run
she went faster the last half than
| the first
"It seems to be plain enough" said
| the Judge to Tobin. Your horse ran
! himself out because the jock couldn't
| hold him. The FOOLS mare ran her
| self in. I move that we hang up the
! numbers as they finished"
Here, here, wait" expostuiated
Tobin. "How about Morgan jerking
my horse up short at the finish? Hey?
If that wasn't pulling. never"
"Gosh, Tobin!" exclaimed Tom Ap-
pleton, dryly, "any horseman could
see your tired fire horse was about
to fall down. The jock was only
!, holdin' him up"
Are you running this case or are
the judges" demanded Tobin. hot1y.
Were running It, and we're or
dering the numbers hung up as they
finished"
This actum sent Tobin into final
Gan.rum.
But the little rat was betting on
the thing; had it framed, and sold