and every man that had a note or a fiver
laid it out on one horse or another.

Rainbow had been entered in proper time and all regular by old Jacob,
under the name of Darkie, which suited in all ways. He was a dark
horse, sure enough; dark in colour, and dark enough as to his
performances--nobody knew much about them. We weren't going to enter him
in his right name, of course.

Old Jacob was a queer old fellow in all his ways and notions, so we
couldn't stable him in any of the stables in Turon, for fear of his
being 'got at', or something. So when I wanted to see him the day
before, the old fellow grinned, and took me away about a mile from the
course; and there was old Rainbow, snug enough--in a tent, above all
places!--but as fine as a star, and as fit as ever a horse was brought
to the post.

'What's the fun of having him under canvas?' I said. 'Who ever heard
of a horse being trained in a tent before?--not but what he looks
first-chop.'

'I've seen horses trained in more ways than one,' says he, 'and I can
wind 'em up, in the stable and out of it, as mighty few in this country
can--that is, when I put the muzzle on. There's a deal in knowing the
way horses is brought up. Now this here's an excitable hoss in a crowd.'

'Is he?' I said. 'Why, he's as cool and steady as an old trooper
when----'

'When powder's burning and bullets is flying,' says the old chap,
grinning again; 'but this here's a different crowd. When he's got a
training saddle and seven or eight stone up, and there's two or three
hundred horses rattling about this side on him and that, it brings out
the old racehorse feeling that's in his blood, and never had a chance to
show itself afore.'

'I see, and so you want to keep him quiet till the last minute?'

'That's just it,' says he; 'I've got the time to a second'--here he
pulls out a big old turnip of a silver watch--'and I'll have him up just
ready to be weighed out last. I never was late in my life.'

'All right,' I said, 'but don't draw it too fine. Have you got your
weight all right?'

'Right to a hounce,' says he, 'nine stun four they've put on him, and
him an untried horse. I told 'em it was weighting him out of the race,
but they laughed at me. Never you mind, though, he can carry weight and
stay too. My ten per cent's as safe as the bank. He'll put the stuns on
all them nobs, too, that think a racehorse must always come out of one
of their training stables.'

'Well, good-bye, o