"I goes to the stand 'n' scratches Hamilton while he's still runnin'. The field waits at the post till they get a clear track. "'I didn't know this was a distance race,' I says to Whitty when he gets down. Whitty's sore as a crab, the bunch'll mention it to him the rest of the season. "'You don't want a jock on this thing,' he says. 'A engineer is what he needs.' "'Sell him,' is the first words Ike says to me when I sees him. "'_Sell him_?' I says. 'You must be drunk! Why, he don't bring a ten case note. Everybody's hep he's a bolter. Now listen! This is a real good colt, 'n' I know it; but the bunch don't. That boy of mine can ride him. If you gives the colt another chance with my boy up, he shows 'em somethin'. Then you can get a price fur him.' "'Do what you like with him,' says Ike. 'But I don't pay out another simoleon on him! I'm through right now!' "'Give me half what he wins his next out 'n' _I'll_ take a chance with him,' I says. "'You're on,' says Ike. 'But you pay the entrance.' "'Surest thing you know,' I says, 'n' goes over to the stalls. "In two weeks there's to be a handicap fur two-year-olds. It's worth three thousand to the winner. It's the best baby race at the meetin'. Hamilton'll come in awful light 'n' he'll get five pounds apprentice allowance fur Micky; but it'll put a big crimp in my roll to pay the entrance. I studies over it some 'n' I gets cold feet. It takes three hundred bones to sit in. I've about decided it's too rich fur my blood, when next work-out day comes 'n' Hamilton works four furlongs, with Micky up, like a cyclone. That gets my circulation goin' 'n' I takes a shot at it. "'Who's burning this up on the ten mile wonder?' says the sec. to me, when I'm payin' the entrance. 'The work seems a little coarse for my old friend Ike.' "'I'm Smiling Faces this load of poles,' I says. "'Why, Blister,' says the sec. 'I never thought it of you! But we're much obliged to you just the same.' "There's eight starters in the handicap besides Hamilton. One of 'em's a big clumsy colt named Hellespont. The bunch calls him the Elephant, 'n' he's sour as lemons. I see his eyes a-rollin' in the paddock, 'n' I know he's hopped. Just as the parade starts he begins to cut the mustard. He rears 'n' tries to come down all spraddled out on the colt ahead of him in the line, but the jock runs him into a stall 'n' they take hold of him till the rest is out on the track. "Micky ain't had no experience at the post. I've borrowed a pair of glasses 'n' I'm watchin' the get-a-way pretty anxious. Hamilton's actin' fine, but the Elephant is holdin' up the start. All of a sudden he rears clear up 'n' comes down across Hamilton. The colt does a flop 'n' I see the Elephant rear 'n' stamp him a couple a times before the assistant drives him off with the bull whip." [Illustration: "I see the Elefant stamp him."]