"I can't hardly see the race, I'm so groggy from the jolt Elsy hands me. Friendless breaks in front and stays there all the way. Lou Smith just sets still 'n' lets the hoss rate hisself. That ole hound comes down the stretch a-rompin', his ears flick-flackin' 'n' a smile on his face. He wins by five len'ths 'n' busts the track record fur the distance a quarter of a second. "Then it begins to get brisk around there. I figger to have Alcyfras all warmed up outside the fence the day Friendless wins. After the race I'd put _him_ in the stall 'n' send Friendless out the gate. Elsy, practisin' the owner act, has gummed the game--Alcyfras is over in the other end of town. "Ole Friendless bustin' the track record is the final blow. I don't hardly get to the stall 'fore here comes the paddock judge 'n' his assistant. "'We want this hoss and you, too, over at the paddock,' he says. 'What's the owner's name?' "'Alcibides Tuttle,' I says. "'Is that all?' says the paddock judge. 'Go get him, Billy!' he says to his assistant. 'You'll likely find him cashin' tickets.' "When we gets to the paddock, there's Colonel King and the rest of the judges. "'Take his blanket off,' says the colonel, when we leads in the hoss. "'He's red-hot, Colonel,' I says. "'So am I,' says the colonel. 'Who was caretaker for the horse Friendless when he was racing?' he asks some of the ginnies. "'Duckfoot Johnson,' says the whole bunch at once. "'Send for him,' says the colonel. "'I's hyar, boss,' says Duckfoot, from the back of the crowd. "'Come and look this horse over,' says the colonel. "'I done looked him over befo', boss,' says Duckfoot, when he gets to the colonel. "'When?' says the colonel. 'When did you see him?' "''Bout a month ago,' says Duckfoot. "'Did you recognize him?' says the colonel. "'Yes, sah,' says Duckfoot, 'I done recnomize him thoully fum his haid to his tail, but I ain' never seed him befo'.' "'Recnomize him again,' the colonel tells him. "'Boss,' says Duckfoot, 'some folks 'low dis hoss am Frien'less, but hit ain'. Ef hits Frien'less, an' yo' puts yo' han' hyar on his belly dey is a rough-feelin' scab. Dis hoss am puffeckly smo-o--' then he stops 'n' begins to get ashy 'round the mouth. "'Well?' says the colonel. 'What's the matter?' "'Lawd Gawd, boss! _Dis am Frien'less . . . Hyar's de scah_!' says Duckfoot, his eyes a-rollin'. Then he goes 'round 'n' looks at the hoss in front. 'Whar his white foot at?' he asks the colonel. "'That's what we are about to ascertain,' says the colonel. 'Boy,' he says to a ginny, 'run out to the drug store with this dollar and bring me back a pint of benzine and a tooth-brush.' "The ginny beats it. "'You may blanket this horse now,' the colonel says to me. "When the ginny gets back, Colonel King pours the benzine on the tooth-brush 'n' goes to work on the off-forefoot. It ain't long till it's nice 'n' white again. "'That is most remarkable!' says Elsy, who's watchin' the colonel.