_him_ I begins to
wilt--he looks so clean. He's got a white mustache, 'n' his face is
kind-a brown 'n' pink. He looks at me a minute out of them blue eyes
of his.

"'Are you the owner of Count Noble, Mr.--er--?'

"'Jones, sir,' I says.

"'Jones?' says the colonel.

"'Yes, sir,' I says.

"'Mr. Jones,' says the colonel, 'how do you account for the fact that
on Thursday Count Noble performs disgracefully, and on Saturday runs
like a stake horse? Have the days of the week anything to do with it?'

"I never says nothin'. I just stands there lookin' at him, foolin'
with my hat.

"'This is hell," I thinks.

"'The judges are interested in this phenomenon, Mr. Jones, and we have
sent for you, thinking perhaps you can throw a little light on the
matter,' says the colonel, 'n' waits fur me again.

"'Come on . . . get busy!' I says to myself. 'You can kid along with a
bunch of bums, 'n' it sounds good--don't get cold feet the first time
some class opens his bazoo at you!' But I can't make a noise like a
word, on a bet.

"'The judges, upon looking over the betting sheets of the two races in
which your horse appeared, find them quite interesting,' says the
colonel. 'The odds were short in the race he did _not_ win; they
remained unchanged--in fact, rose--since only a small amount was
wagered on his chances. On the other hand, these facts are reversed in
to-day's race, which he _won_. It seems possible that you and your
friends who were pessimists on Thursday became optimists today, and
benefited by the change. Have you done so?'

"I see I has to get some sort-a language out of me.

"'He was a better hoss to-day--that's all I knows about it,' I says.

"'The _first_ part of your statement seems well within the facts,' says
the colonel. 'He was, apparently, a much better horse to-day. But
these gentlemen and myself, having the welfare of the American
thoroughbred at heart, would be glad to learn by what method he was so
greatly improved.'

"I don't know why I ever does it, but it comes to me how Duckfoot
leaves the towel on the bird's leg, 'n' I don't stop to think.

"'I blistered him,' I says.

"'You--_what_?' says the colonel. I'd have give up the roll quick,
sooner'n spit it out again, but I'm up against it.

"'I blisters him', I says.

"The colonel's face gets red. His eyes bung out 'n' he turns 'round
'n' starts to cough 'n' make noises. The rest of them judges does the
same. They holds on t