"They take Micky to the hospital. The doc says his arm's broke 'n' he's hurt inside. He comes to before they puts him in the ambulance. "'Why didn't you let another boy ride?' says the assistant starter, who's helpin' the doc. "'Ride hell!' says Micky. 'He runs off with them other boobs.' "Me 'n' Peewee Simpson gets Hamilton to the stall. It takes him just one hour to do that hundred yards, but I've got a tight bandage above the hock 'n' he don't bleed so bad. "'Can you get him so he can walk?' I says to the vet. when he's looked at the colt. "'Yes,' he says; 'but that'll be about all for him. I advise you to have him destroyed. What hoss _is_ this?' "'Hamilton,' I says. 'He just wins the colt race.' "'So?' he says. 'I didn't see it. When did _this_ happen?' "'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.' "'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?' "'He did,' I says. "'On _that_?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do, kid me?' "'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter a damn to me whether you believe it or not!' "'Why, you _ain't_ kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute--' "He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several. "'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!' "'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more. "'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.' "'What did you ever buy _him_ for?' he says. "I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton. "'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says. "'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?' "I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round the colt a couple a times. "'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight--_this hoss wont never do more than walk_. But he's bred out a sight 'n' I like his looks. There's a chance somebody could use him in the stud. I'm willin' to get him in some sort-a shape 'n' see if I can't make a piece of money on him. What do you say?" "'Well,' I says, 'you're fixed better to get him in shape'n me. I just wanted to give the little hoss a show. If _you'll_ give it to him, he's yours.' "'Here's your money,' says the vet. 'I'll send my wagon for him to-morrow. Let me have a lantern till I get this leg so it won't hurt him so bad to-night.' "The next day every paper I picks up has a great big write-up in it about Micky 'n' the colt. Until the wagon comes fur him there's a regular procession to the stall to look at Hamilton, 'n' when I goes to the hospital that night you can't see Micky fur flowers around his bed. "'Hell!' says Micky. 'Do they think I'm a stiff?' "'Sh-h-h!' says the sister that's nursin' him.