Humorous stories; Love stories; Running races -- Fiction; Western stories
"Larry," cried his employer, sharply, "have you lost your head?"
"Ain't they g-g-got you yet?" queried the trainer in a strangling
voice.
"You idiot, I won!"
"What!"
"I won--easy."
"You _won!_" Larry's eyes were starting from his head.
"He sure did," said Stover. "Didn't you think he could?"
Glass apprehended that look of suspicion. "Certainly!" said he.
"Didn't I say so, all along? Now take that clothesline off of me;
I've got to run some more."
That evening J. Wallingford Speed and Helen Blake sat together in
the hammock, and much of the time her hand was in his. The breath
of the hills wandered to them idly, fragrant with the odors of
the open fields, the heavens were bright with dancing stars, the
night itself was made for romance. From the bunk-house across the
court-yard floated the voice of the beloved Echo Phonograph, now
sad, now gay; now shrilling the peaceful air with Mme. Melba's
_Holy City_, now waking the echoes with the rasping
reflections of _Silas on Fifth Avenue._ To the spellbound
audience gathered close beside it, it was divine; but deep as was
their satisfaction, it could not compare with that of the tired
young son of Eli. Ineffable peace and contentment were his; the
whole wide world was full of melody.
"And now that I've told you what a miserable fraud I am, you
won't stop loving me?" he questioned.
Helen nestled closer and shook her head. There was no need for
words.
Jack Chapin came out upon the porch with the chaperon. "Well,
Fresno caught his train," he told them.
"And we had such a glorious drive coming back! The night is
splendid!"
"Yes, so nice and moonlight!" Wally agreed pleasantly, whereat
Jack Chapin laughed.
"It's as black as pitch."
"Why, so it is!" Then as a fresh song burst forth from the very
heart of the machine, he murmured affectionately: "By Jove! there
goes _The Baggage Coach Ahead_ once more! That makes ten
times."
"It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" Miss Blake sighed dreamily.
"I--I believe I'm learning to like it myself," her lover agreed.
"Poor Frez!"
The bridesmaids wore white organdie and carried violets.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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