Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-02-23

no cnance.
"And you let that horse go on this
way, knowing all the time?" Slim de-
manded in low voice.
Bassitt turned on his pillow and
groaned again.
"Slim, was afraid to tell"
Knight Errant endured with remark
able equine stoicism trying ordeal
as the veterinarian probed with his
long forceps, finally locating and with
drawing the sponge Charlie Bassitt
had confessed to secreting in the
horses nostrils months before. Two
nights after the operation, Knight
Errant came down with a fever.
There was an anxious night, while
Heather, Slim and Snapper stood by
the horse, awaiting the veterinarians
verdict.
"1nfection!" was his diagnosis. "Get
him to a high, dry climate at once if
you want to save him!"
Recalling an old friend, Pop Log
an, who had small ranch in Arizona,
Slim arranged to take the ailing
Knight Errant there in a borrowed
van. The colt recuperated rapidly
and was soon exercising daily on the
ranch's quarter-mile track, with the
hefty but able Snapper in the saddle.
And so, in virtual hiding, Knight
Errant was kept for three weeks in
Arizona.
Slim knew at last he had a great
race horse, trained to the minute, in
the trailer van in back of his road
ster as he drove into Santa Anita
nine days in advance of the big race.
The problem of getting a good
jockey came up one night when Slim
exclaimed, "Dimples Draper! Well
get him!" Then his enthusiasm died.
CAV, he's riding at Hialeah. The
Colonel, won't let him off," Snapper
said, gloomily.
"Well," commented Slim. "I1l
wire him anyway"
Driving to the telegraph office Slim
told Heather he was going to give
Knight Errant a final hard race in
the San Antonio day after tomorrow
to put him on edge for the big race.
"But Slim, Comanche will surely
be entered in that race" Heather pro-
tested.
"Good! I hope he is" Slim replied.
well find out how good Comanche
is. And how much better Knight Err
rant is. We have nothing to worry
about-nothing at ALI"
=
Hearts quickened in the long line
of boxes overhanging the broad
sweep of Santa Anita. But none beat
faster than Heather's as reborn
Knight Errant, his black coat richer
in sickness than ever before, in the
unmistakable glow of health and fit
ness, marched with his quick nervous
tread down the track to the starting
gate.
A hush, as though it sensed the i'm
port of the race this day, fell over
the vast throng of 10000 as sixteen
horses-the fittest and fleetest on the
grounds-paraded by the stands for
the running of the San Antonio at a
mile and an eighth.
The San Antonio preceded the San
Ia Anita by only one week.
Edith Ashleigh was in box adj
joining Heather's. Flushed with pride
and confidence in her black knight,
she even felt a lenient kindness for
Edith.
"sorry we must be rivals today,
Edith" she dimpled. "After all
they're two grand horses-Comanche
and Knight Errant-and it's shame
they can't both win"
Edith flashed back. "Let US just
say, May the better horse win,' with
our fingers crossed, and pray for a
dead heat" she smiled.
And only the moment before Edith
and Heather had spoken so solicitous-
ly of each others horse, Slim May
nard had been down in the saddling
paddock telling Knight Grants rid
ef, "Davey" Jones, in effect to "knock
Comanche for a loop.
"Either that big horse has Knight
Grants number or he hasn't" he
told Jones.
"This race will tell the tale. Open
up all the daylight you can on Co.
manche in the early running.
"And when Comanche makes a