ll, and I'm
going to doctor this one some more and then go to bed."

Shortly thereafter the good horse Elisha entertained a visitor who
brought no lantern with him, but operated in the dark, swiftly and
silently. Later a door creaked, there were muffled footfalls under
the stable awning and one resounding thump, as it might have been a
shod hoof striking a doorsill. Still later Squeaking Henry, returning
to his post of duty, saw a light in Elisha's stall and looked in at
Old Man Curry applying cold compresses to the left foreleg of a gaunt
bay horse with a small splash of white in the centre of the
forehead.

"How they coming, uncle?" asked Henry.

"Oh, about the same, I reckon," was the reply.

"You might as well hit the hay. You've been fooling with that leg
since dark, but you'll never get the bird ready to fly by Saturday."

"'Wisdom crieth without,'" quoted Old Man Curry sententiously. "'She
uttereth her voice in the street.'"

"Quit kidding yourself," argued Henry, "and look how sore he is.
You're in big luck if he ain't lame a whole month from now."

"Well," said Old Man Curry, "Solomon says that the righteous man
regardeth the life of his beast."

"He does, eh?" Squeaking Henry chuckled unpleasantly. "There's a
whole lot of things Solomon didn't know about bowed tendons. That leg
needs something besides regards, I'm telling you."

"And I'm listening," said Old Man Curry patiently. "Wisdom will die
with you, I reckon, Henry, so take care of yourself."

If the Jungle Circuit knew an event remotely approaching a turf
classic, it was the Northwestern Handicap, by usage shortened to "the
Handicap." It was their Metropolitan, Suburban, and Brooklyn rolled
into one. The winner was crowned with garlands, the jockey was
photographed in the floral horseshoe, and the fortunate owner
pocketed something more than two thousand dollars--a large sum of
money on any race track in the land, but a princely reward to the
average jungle owner.

The best horses in training were entered each year and while a
scornful Eastern handicapper would doubtless have rated them all
among the cheap selling platers, they were still the kings of the
jungle tracks, small toads in a smaller puddle, and their annual
struggle was anticipated for weeks. Each candidate appeared in the
light of a possible winner because the purse was worth trying for and
each owner was credited with an honest desire to win. The Handicap
was emphatically th