day to find that the Big Blue, while he
retained his own Available Lady in the corner-box, had also annexed the
box and wife that belonged to himself, and a desperate battle followed.
The only spectators were the two wives, but they maintained an
indifferent aloofness. Arnaux fought with his famous wings, but they
were none the better weapons because they now bore twenty records. His
beak and feet were small, as became his blood, and his stout little
heart could not make up for his lack of weight. The battle went against
him. His wife sat unconcernedly in the nest, as though it were not her
affair, and Arnaux might have been killed but for the timely arrival of
Billy. He was angry enough to wring the Blue bird's neck, but the bully
escaped from the loft in time. Billy took tender care of Arnaux for a
few days. At the end of a week he was well again, and in ten days he
was once more on the road. Meanwhile he had evidently forgiven his
faithless wife, for, without any apparent feeling, he took up his
nesting as before. That month he made two new records. He brought a
message ten miles in eight minutes, and he came from Boston in four
hours. Every moment of the way he had been impelled by the
master-passion of home-love. But it was a poor home-coming if his wife
figured at all in his thoughts, for he found her again flirting with
the Big Blue cock. Tired as he was, the duel was renewed, and again
would have been to a finish but for Billy's interference. He separated
the fighters, then shut the Blue cock up in a coop, determined to get
rid of him in some way. Meanwhile the "Any Age Sweepstakes" handicap
from Chicago to New York was on, a race of nine hundred miles. Arnaux
had been entered six months before. His forfeit-money was up, and
notwithstanding his domestic complications, his friends felt that he
must not fail to appear.

The birds were sent by train to Chicago, to be liberated at intervals
there according to their handicap, and last of the start was Arnaux.
They lost no time, and outside of Chicago several of these prime Flyers
joined by common impulse into a racing flock that went through air on
the same invisible track. A Homer may make a straight line when
following his general sense of direction, but when following a familiar
back track he sticks to the well-remembered landmarks. Most of the
birds had been trained by way of Columbus and Buffalo. Arnaux knew the
Columbus route, but also he knew that by Detroit,