s. 'I takes hold of him
'cause he's bad in front, 'n' he's likely to do a flop when he gets
tired. So long, Bud!' Joe says to me, 'n' I takes the bird to the barn.

"I'm not thinkin' Izzy ain't wise. It's a cinch Joe don't stall him.
Every booky would hear about that work-out by noon. Sure enough the
_Item's_ pink sheet has this among the tips the next day:

"'Count Noble'--that was the bird's name--'a mile in forty-four.
Pulled to a walk at the end. Bet the works on him; his first time out,
boys!'

"That was on a Saturday. On Monday I enters the bird among a bunch of
dogs to start in a five furlong sprint Thursday. I'm savin' every
soomarkee I gets my hands on 'n' I pays the entrance to the secretary
like it's a mere bag of shells. Joe Nickel can't ride fur me--he's
under contract. I meets him the day before my race.

"'You're levelin' with your hoss, ain't you?' he says. 'I'll send my
valet in with you, 'n' after you get yours on, he'll bet two hundred
fur me.'

"'Nothin' doin', Joe!' I says. 'Stay away from it. I'll tell you when
I gets ready to level. You can't bet them bookies nothin'--they're
wise to him.'

"'Look-a-here, Bud!' says Joe. 'That bird'll cake-walk among them
crabs. No jock can make him lose, 'n' not get ruled off.'

"'Leave that to me,' I says.

"Just as I figgers--my hoss opens up eight-to-five in the books.

"I gives him all the water he'll drink afore he goes to the post, 'n' I
has bandages on every leg. The paddock judge looks at them bandages,
but he knows the bird's a cripple, 'n' he don't feel 'em.

"'Them's to hold his legs on, ain't they?' he says, 'n' grins.

"'Surest thing you know,' I says. But I feels some easier when he's on
his way--_there's seven pounds of lead in each of them bandages_.

"I don't want the bird whipped when he ain't got a chance.

"'This hoss backs up if you use the bat on him,' I says to the jock, as
he's tyin' his reins.

"'He backs up anyway, I guess,' he says, as the parade starts.

"The bird gets away good, but I'd overdone the lead in his socks. He
finished a nasty last--thirty len'ths back.

"'Roll over, kid!' says the jock, when I go up to slip him his fee.
'Not fur ridin' that hippo. It 'ud be buglary--he couldn't beat a
piano!'

"I meets Colonel King comin' out of the judge's stand that evenin'.

"'An owner's life has its trials and tribulations--eh, my boy?' he says.

"'Yes, sir!' I says. That's the first time Colo