Bred In The Bone Part 2

"Ur--who 's goin' to win the steep'!"

Robin looked wiser.

"Well--the' may be some surprises tomorrow. You keep your eyes open.

Dese heah Yankee hosses don' always have dey own way----"

"I try to, but thim sheenies! Tell me what you know?" His voice was a cajoling whisper now. "They says Hurricane's--or is it Swallow's--!" He was looking with exaggerated interest at something in his hand, waiting in hopes that Robin would take up the sentence and complete it.

Robin chuckled, and the chuckle was worth what he wanted.

"Swallow 's too fat; Hurricane 's good, but it 's muscle an' wind an' de blood what tells in de last mile--blood an' bottom. You keep yer eye on a dark hoss. Gi' me meh money."

The loan-broker still held on to the notes, partly from force of habit, while he asked: "Who 's a-ridin' him!"

But Robin reached for the bills and got them.

"Somebody as knows how to ride," he said, oracularly. "You 'll see to-morrow."

As he turned away the lender muttered an oath of disappointment The next moment he examined something curiously. Then he put it to his ear, and then in his pocket with a look of deep satisfaction.

"Well, I 'll make this anyhow."

When Robin came out of the shop, for the first time in twenty years he was without his big gold watch. He pa.s.sed back by the secretary's office, and paid down the sum necessary to enter a horse in the next day's steeplechase. The clerk looked toward the door.

"Don't you know the sun is down?"

"De sun down! 'Tain't nothin' but de cloud. De sun 's a quarter of a hour high." Robin walked to the door.

"What time is it by your watch?"

"Hit 's edzactly seven--" His back was to the official.

"Humph!" grunted the clerk. "Don't you know----"

"--lackin' six----"

"--the sun sets at ten minutes to seven!"

"--lackin ' sixteen minutes forty-two seconds and a quarter," pursued Robin, with head bent as if he were looking at a watch.

"Oh, you be hanged! Your old watch is always slow."

"My watch? Dis heah watch?" He turned, b.u.t.toning his coat carefully.

"You know whar dis watch come f'om?" He pressed his hand to his side and held it there.

"Yes, I know. Give me your money. It will help swell Carrier Pigeon's pile to-morrow."

"Not unless he can fly," said Robin.

"What 's his name!" The clerk had picked up his pen.

Robin scratched his head in perplexity.

"Le' me see. I 'mos' forgit. Oh, yes." He gave the name.

"What! Call him 'J. D.'?"

"Yes, dat 'll do."

So, the horse was entered as "J. D."

As Robin stepped out of the door the first big drops of rain were just spattering down on the steps from the dark cloud that now covered all the western sky, and before he reached the stable it was pouring.

As he entered the stall the young owner was on his knees in a corner, and before him was an open portmanteau from which he was taking something that made the old man's eyes glisten: an old jacket of faded orange-yellow silk, and a blue cap--the old Bullfield colors, that had once been known on every course in the country, and had often led the field.

Robin gave an exclamation.

"Le' me see dat thing!" He seized the jacket and held it up.

"Lord, Lord! I 's glad to see it," he said. "I ain' see it for so long.

It 's like home. Whar did you git dis thing, son! I 'd jest like to see it once mo' come home leadin' de field."

"Well, you shall see it doing that to-morrow," said the young fellow, boastfully, his face alight with pleasure.

"I declar' I 'd gi' my watch to see it."

He stopped short as his hand went to his side where the big gold timepiece had so long reposed, and he took it away with a sudden sense of loss. This, however, was but for a second. In a moment the old trainer was back in the past, telling his young master of the glories of the old stable--what races it had run and what stakes it had won.

The storm pa.s.sed during the night, and the sun rose next morning clear and bright. One horse, at least, that was entered for the big race was well cared for. Robin had slept in his stall, and his young master had had his room. They had become great friends, and the young man had told the old trainer of his hopes. If he won he would have enough to send his sister off to school in the city, and he would go to college. Robin had entered into it heart and soul, and had given the boy all the advice he could hold.

Robin was up by light, looking after the horse; and the young owner, after waiting long enough to take another lesson in the proper handling of a horse about to run, excused himself, and, leaving the horse with the old trainer, went out, he said, "to exercise for his wind." This was a long walk; but the young rider's walk took him now, not along the track or the road, but along the steeplechase course, marked by the hurdles; and though the ground was wet and soggy on the flat, and in some places the water still stood, he appeared not to mind it in the least. So far from avoiding the pools, he plunged straight through them, walking backward and forward, testing the ground, and at every "jump" he made a particular examination.

When he returned to the stable he was as wet as a "drowned rat," but he looked well satisfied, and the old trainer, after he had talked with him a few minutes, was satisfied also.

"Dat boy 's he gran'pa's gran'chile," he muttered, well pleased with his account.

III

The crowd that a.s.sembled at the course that afternoon was enough to fill the hearts of the management with joy, if a management has hearts. When the first race was called, the stands and paddocks were already filled, and the road was crowded with vehicles as far as the eye could see. The club and club-paddock filled later, as is the way with fas.h.i.+onable folk; but when the second race was called, these, too, were packed, and they looked, with the gay dresses of the throng that filled every foot of s.p.a.ce, like great banks of flowers, while the noise that floated ont sounded like the hum of a vast swarm of bees.

The great race of the day was the fourth on the programme, and all minds were fastened on it, the interest in the other races being merely perfunctory.

Before the big event the paddock was thronged with those who came to see the horses. A curious crowd they were--stout men, heavy-jawed and coa.r.s.e-lipped; thin men, sharp-eyed and fox-faced; small, keen men, evil-looking boys, and round-faced, jovial-looking fellows--all stamped with _horse_. Among these mingled refined-looking gentlemen and fas.h.i.+onably dressed ladies.

Even under their blankets the horses were a fine-looking lot.