rs of unctuous
joy. If she was beaten--well, what else did you expect?

America's feeling in the matter was summed up in the famous cartoon that
appeared at Christmas in _Life_, where Jonathon was seen shaking hands
with John Bull, the mare in the background, and saying:

"I'll believe in you, John, but I'll watch you all the same."

* * * * *

"That's God Almighty's Mustang, Chukkers up," said Old Mat. "The Three
J's think they done it this time. And to read the papers you'd guess
they was right. She's a good mare, too--I will say that for her; quick
as a kitten and the heart of a lion. You see her last year yourself at
Aintree, sir!"

"I did," replied the young man, with deep enthusiasm. "Wonderful! She
didn't gallop and jump; she flowed and she flew."

"That's it, sir," agreed the other. "Won all the way. Only Chukkers must
be a bit too clever o' course, and let her down by the dirty."

The old man pursed his lips and nodded confidentially. "Only one thing.
My little Fo'-Pound's the daddy o' her." He sat down and began to draw
on his elastic-sided boots with groans.

"Who's going to ride him?" asked Silver.

"That's where it is, sir," panted the old man. "Who _is_ goin' to ride
him. There's Monkey Brand down on his knees to me for the mount; and he
don't go so bad with Monkey Brand--when he's that way inclined. But I
don't know what to say." His efforts successfully ended, he lifted a
round and crimson face. "See where it is, Mr. Silver; Monkey Brand's
forty-five, and his ridin' days are pretty nigh over. He reckons he can
just about win on Fo'-Pound and then retire. That's his notion. And ye
see it ain't only that, but there's Chukkers and the little bit o'
bitterness. See it's been goin' on twenty year and it's all square now.
Chukkers broke Monkey's pelvis for him Boomerang's year, and Monkey
mixed up Chukkers's inside Cannibal's National. And there it's stood
ever since. And Monkey wants to get one up afore he takes off his jacket
for good."

Silver was looking into the fire.

"If Monkey Brand don't ride, what's the alternative?" he asked.

"Only one," replied the trainer. "Albert. He's a honest hoss is
Fo'-Pound-the-Second, only that fussy as to who he has about him. That's
the way with bottle-fed uns. They gets spoiled and gives 'emselves airs.
Albert's his lad, and Monkey's been about him since he was a foal.
Sometimes he'll work for one, and sometimes for the other