"'I think I know where you can get the hoss you're lookin' fur,' I says. "He stares at me kind-a puzzled fur a minute. "'Oh, yes, you are the man who brought the mare up-stairs,' he says. 'What leads you to believe you can find a hunter good enough to beat Macbeth?' "'I ain't said nothin' about a hunter,' I says. 'Would you stand fur a ringer?' "'I think I get your inference,' he says. 'Be a little more specific, please.' "'If I puts you hep to a hoss that ain't no more a hunter than that automobile,' I says, 'but can run like the buzz-wagon 'n' jump like a hunter--could you use him in your business?' "'What sort of a horse would that be?' he says. "'A thoroughbred,' I says. 'A bang-tail.' "'Oh--a runner,' he says. 'Do you know anything about the runners?' "'A few,' I says. 'I'm on the track nine years.' "'What are you doing here?' he says. "'Ruled off,' I says. "'Hm-m!' he says. 'What for?' "'Ringin',' I says. "'You seem to run to that sort of thing,' he says. 'What's your name?' he asks. "'Blister Jones,' I says. "'Delightful!' he says. 'I'm glad I met you. Who has this remarkable horse?' "'Peewee Simpson,' I says. "'Equally delightful! I'd like to meet him, too,' he says. "'He's in Loueyville,' I says. "'Regrettable,' he says. 'What's the name of his horse?' "'Rainbow,' I says. "'And I thought this was to be a dull day,' he says. 'Jump in here and take a ride. I don't know that I care to go rainbow-chasing assisted by Blisters, and Peewees--but nefarious undertakings have always appealed to me, and I desire to cultivate your acquaintance.' "We goes fur a long ride in the battle-ship. He don't say much--just asks questions 'n' listens to my guff. At last I opens up on the Rainbow deal, 'n' I tries all I know to get him goin'--I sure slips him some warm conversation. "'You heard what Brown said of Macbeth!' he says. 'Why are you so certain this Rainbow can beat him in a steeplechase?' "'Why, listen, man!' I says. 'This Rainbow is the best ever. He can beat any brush-topper now racin' if the handicapper don't overload him. _He's_ been coppin' where they race your eyeballs off. _He's_ been makin' good against the real thing. _He's a thoroughbred_! If _he_ turns in one of these here parlor races fur gents, with a bunch of hunters, _they won't know which way he went_!' "'The runners I have seen are all neck and legs. They don't look like hunters at all,' he says. "'You're thinkin' about these here flat-shouldered sprinters,' I says. 'This Rainbow is a brush-topper. He's got a pair of shoulders on _him_ 'n' he's the jumpin'est thoroughbred ever I saw. Course he's rangier 'n most huntin'-bred hosses, but with a curb to put some bow in his neck, he'll pass fur a hunter anywhere!' "'There is one sad thing I haven't told you,' he says. 'I must ride the horse myself.' "'What's sad about that?' I says. 'You ain't much over a hundred 'n' forty, at a guess.'