"'Meanin' you?' I says. 'You'd holler fur your milk bottle before he goes a eighth with you.' "'Aw, you go to hell!' says Micky. "I borrows a curb 'n' chain from Eddy Murphy--he's been usin' it on ole Dandelion. It's fierce--you can bust a hoss's jaw with it. I puts it on Hamilton next work-out. "'I guess that'll hold little Hammy,' I says, when Snowball's up. But it don't. The colt ain't any more'n felt the curb when he bolts into the fence 'n' chucks Snowball off. I starts to catch the hoss, but Micky gets to him first 'n' grabs him. "'Lemme give him a whirl,' he says. 'Come on--be a sport fur a change!' "Snowball rolls away from the colt 'n' picks hisself up. "'He is shoh welcome to him,' he says. 'I got no moh use foh him.' "I studies a minute, lookin' at Micky. He don't come much above Hamilton's knee. He's lookin' at me like a pup beggin' fur a bone. "'Go to it, you ornery little shrimp!' I says at last. 'If a worse pair ever gets together I've never seed it!' "Micky gives a yelp like a terrier. "'Take off this bit 'n' put a straight bar on him,' he says. "'Why, you couldn't hold one of his ears with a bar bit,' I says. "'Who's ridin' this hoss?' says Micky. 'Go awn, get the bit!' "'Get him what he wants,' I says to Snowball. "We leads the colt on to the track, when the bits is changed, 'n' just as I throws Micky up I see he's got a bat. "'What you goin' to do with that?' I says. 'You need a parachute, not a whip!' "'_I_ always ride 'em with a bat. Turn him loose,' says Micky. "Well, it's the same thing over again, the colt runs off. All Micky does is to keep him in the track. I see he ain't pullin' a pound. They've gone about six mile 'n' Hamilton begins to slow a little. Just then Micky lights into him with the bat. "'Look at dat!' says Snowball. 'He's los' his min'.' "'_No, he ain't_!' I says. '_He's there forty ways_!' I've just begun to tumble the kid's wise as owls. 'Oh, you Micky!' I hollers. 'Go to it, you white boy!' "I hate to tell you how far that kid works the hoss. He keeps handin' him the bat every other jump. It gets so I can run as fast as they're movin' 'n' Hamilton's just prayin' fur help. I'm afraid he'll jim the colt fur good, so I yells at Micky to cut it out, when he comes by. "'Come down off of that, you squirt!' I says. 'Do you want to kill the colt?' "'Aw, you go to hell!' he says, 'n' 'round they go again. When Hamilton ain't got more'n a good stagger left, Micky rides him through the gate to the stall. "'Now, pony,' he says to Hamilton, 'don't start nothin' you can't finish.' "The trip kills a ordinary hoss, but they ain't nothin' ordinary about this Hamilton. I learns _that_ then. We cools him out good 'n' in three days he's kickin' the roof off the stall. "Come work-out day Micky goes up on Hamilton. Say, the colt eats out of his hand. Micky's got him buffaloed right. He gallops Hamilton a nice mile 'n' pulls up at the gate.