the crackling of thorns under a pot,'"
he quoted, "'so is the laughter of a fool.'"

The end of the meeting was close at hand; the next town on the Jungle
Circuit was preparing to receive the survivors. The owners were
plotting to secure that elusive commodity known as get-away money;
some of them would have been glad to mortgage their chances for a
receipted feed bill. Last Chance had started five times and each time
Hopwood had listened to a thrilling description of the race; the
chestnut's performances had been bad enough to strain the Kid's
powers of invention.

On the eve of the final struggle of the nonwinners, the Kid sat in
grave consultation with Hopwood and Little Calamity and the rain
drummed on the shingle roof of the tackle room. The fat man was
downcast; he had been hinting about selling Last Chance at auction
and returning to Butte.

"You don't mean to say that you're going to _quit_?" demanded the
Kid, incredulously. "Just when he's getting good?"

"What's the use?" was the dreary reply. "Luck is against me, ain't
it?"

"But he's always knocking at the door, ain't he? He's always right up
there part of the way. You can't get the worst of it every time, you
know. Be game."

"I've had the worst of it every time so far," said Hopwood, with a
dejected shake of his head. "Every time. I swear I don't know what's
wrong with that horse. He _looks_ all right and he _acts_ all right,
but every time he starts something happens. They bump him into the
fence or pocket him or he gets a clod in his eye and quits. He's been
last every time but one and then he was next to last. I--I'm sort of
discouraged, boys."

"Aw, never mind, boss!" chirped Little Calamity, one eye on the Kid
and the other wandering in the general direction of the owner.
"To-morrow is another day and there ain't a thing left in the
nonwinner class for him to beat. All the good ones are gone. He
worked fine this morning, and----"

"You've said that every time."

"Yes, but you're overlooking the muddy track!" Hopwood blinked in
perplexity as the Kid came to the rescue with a new story.

"The muddy track? What difference will that make?"

"Listen to him! All the difference in the wide world!"

"Yeh," chimed in Calamity. "You bet it makes a difference!"

"You're forgetting that Last Chance is by a mudder out of a mudder,"
suavely explained the Kid. "His daddy used to win stakes kneedeep in
it. His mother liked mud so well they had to mi