n Curry heaved little Mose into the saddle.

"Mind now, son. Ride just like I told you. Stay with that black hoss.
He'll lay out of it the first mile. When he moves up, you move up
too. We've got a big pull in the weights and that'll count in the
last quarter. Stay with him, just like his shadow, Mose."

"Yes, suh," said Jockey Jones. "If I'm goin' to be his shadder, he'll
sho' think the sun is settin' behind him when he starts down at
stretch!"

Abe Goldmark craned his neck to see the parade pass the grand stand.
Elisha was fifth in line, walking sedately, as was his habit.

"Not so very frisky, but at that he looks better than I thought he
would," was Goldmark's mental comment. "They must have shot all the
coke in the world into that old skate. As soon as he begins to run
the blood will pump into that sore leg and he'll quit. Black Bill
looks like the money to me. He outclasses these other horses."

Goldmark passed the eraser over his slate. Black Bill, 2 to 5.
Elisha, 60, 20, and 10.

A dozen restless, high-strung thoroughbreds and a dozen nervous,
scheming jockeys can make life exceedingly interesting for an
official starter, particularly if the race be an important one and a
ragged start certain to draw a storm of adverse criticism. The boys
on the front runners were all manoeuvring to beat the barrier and
thus add to a natural advantage while the boys on the top-weighted
horses were striving to secure an early start before the lead pads
began to tell on their mounts. As a result the barrier was broken
four times in as many minutes and the commandment against profanity
was broken much oftener. The starter grew hoarse and inarticulate;
sweat streamed down his face as he hurled anathemas at horses and
riders.

"Keep that Miss Amber back, Dugan! Go through that barrier again and
it'll cost you fifty! ---- ---- ----!!"

"I can't do nothing with her!" whined Dugan. "She's crazy; that's
what she is!"

Through all the turmoil and excitement two horses remained quietly in
their positions waiting for the word. These were Black Bill and
Elisha, stretch runners, to whom a few yards the worst of the start
meant nothing. Out of the corner of his eye little Mose watched
Jockey Grogan on the favourite. The black horse edged toward the
webbing, the line broke, wheeled, advanced, broke again and a third
time came swinging forward. As it advanced, Mose drove the blunt
spurs into Elisha's side. A roar from the starter, a