" said Mike, "but these
outsiders is enough to make a b'y narvous the way they stare at him.
Alan Porter was in the paddock a minute ago askin' fer his sister, but I
hustled him out, telling him ye--I mean she--was in the stand."

"Thank you, Mike; you're a good friend," replied the girl, gratefully.

Dixon had never taken so much care over the preparation of a horse for a
race in all his life; and at last everything was as perfect as it could
possibly be made. Lauzanne's behavior gladdened the girl's heart; he was
as supremely indifferent to the saddling, to the staring of the people,
to the scent of battle that was in the soft summer air, as though he
were in his own stable at home. Not a muscle of his huge flank trembled.
Once, as the bridle rein was loosened for an instant, he half turned in
the stall, curved his neck and stretched his golden nozzle toward the
small figure in blue silk, as though he fain would make sure by scent
that one of his natural enemies, a man jockey, had not been thrust upon
him. Allis understood this questioning movement, and reaching out her
hand rubbed the gray velvet of his nose. But for the restraining rein,
tightened quickly by the boy who held him, Lauzanne would have snuggled
his head against his little mistress.

"They understand each other," said Dixon to Mike, in an undertone;
"we'll get all that's in him this trip."

"Bot' t'umbs up! if he doesn't come home alone I'll eat me hat. The
sharks'll get a knock this journey, that'll make 'em take a tumble to
themselves."

Dixon stepped back to the corner where Allis was and said: "I guess I
can't give you no orders. He's a bit sluggish at the post, an' a few
false breaks won't hurt him none. Just don't be afraid, that's all. A
mile an' a half's a long journey, an' you'll have plenty of time to
take their measure. He's sure to get away last, but that won't matter;
there'll be plenty of openin's to get through after you've gone a mile.
Just keep your eye on The Dutchman--he's a stayer from 'way back; an'
Westley may kid you that he's beat comin' up the stretch, for he's slick
as they make them, an' then come with a rattle at the finish an' nose
you out on the post. Don't never let up once you're into the stretch;
if you're ten lengths ahead don't let the Chestnut down, but keep a good
holt on him, an' finish as though they was all lapped on your quarter.
There's a horse in the race I don't understand; he can no more get a
mile an' a