is up on the ten mile wonder?' says the sec. to me,
when I'm payin' the entrance. 'The work seems a little coarse for my
old friend Ike.'

"'I'm Smiling Faces this load of poles,' I says.

"'Why, Blister,' says the sec. 'I never thought it of you! But we're
much obliged to you just the same.'

"There's eight starters in the handicap besides Hamilton. One of 'em's
a big clumsy colt named Hellespont. The bunch calls him the Elephant,
'n' he's sour as lemons. I see his eyes a-rollin' in the paddock, 'n'
I know he's hopped. Just as the parade starts he begins to cut the
mustard. He rears 'n' tries to come down all spraddled out on the colt
ahead of him in the line, but the jock runs him into a stall 'n' they
take hold of him till the rest is out on the track.

"Micky ain't had no experience at the post. I've borrowed a pair of
glasses 'n' I'm watchin' the get-a-way pretty anxious. Hamilton's
actin' fine, but the Elephant is holdin' up the start. All of a sudden
he rears clear up 'n' comes down across Hamilton. The colt does a flop
'n' I see the Elephant rear 'n' stamp him a couple a times before the
assistant drives him off with the bull whip."

[Illustration: "I see the Elefant stamp him."]

"'Good-by, three hundred!' I says to myself, I can't see good fur the
dust, but they pulls Micky out from under the colt, 'n' when I gets
another slant, Hamilton's on his feet 'n' the starter's talkin' at
Micky. I can see Micky shakin' his head. It ain't long till they puts
him up again.

"'That's the good game kid!' I says out loud. 'Oh, you 'Micky boy!'
also out loud.

"They get off to a nice start. When they hit the stretch I throws my
hat away. Hamilton's in front two lengths. A eighth from home I see
there's somethin' wrong with Micky. He's got his bat 'n' lines in his
left mitt. His right hook is kind-a floppin' at his side, but
Hamilton's runnin' true 'n' strong. The colt looks awful good to the
sixteenth 'n' then his gait goes clear to the bad. I see he's all shot
to pieces behind, 'n' he's stoppin' fast. I'm standin' at the inner
rail ten len'ths from the wire, 'n' the Elephant colt gets to Hamilton
right in front of me.

"'I gotcha, jock!' yells the boy on the Elephant.

"'They don't pay off here,' says Micky, 'n' sticks the lines in his
face. Then he goes to the bat with his south hook 'n' Hamilton lays
back his ears 'n' runs true again. . . . He out-games the Elephant a
nod at the wire