s now well known to the grooms and hangers-on;
his colors usually marked him clearly, and his leadership was in a
measure recognized by the long-eared herd that fled with him. He
figured more or less with the Dogs in the talk and betting of the men.

"Wonder if old Dignam is going to enter Minkie this year?"

"Faix, an' if he does I bet the Little Warhorse will take the gimp out
av her an' her runnin' mate."

"I'll bet three to one that my old Jen will pick the Warhorse up before
he passes the grand stand," growled a dog-man.

"An' it's meself will take thot bet in dollars," said Mickey, "an',
moore than thot, Oi'll put up a hull month's stuff thot there ain't a
dog in the mate thot kin turrn the Warrhorrse oncet on the hull coorse."

So they wrangled and wagered, but each day, as they put the Rabbits
through their paces, there were more of those who believed that they
had found a wonderful runner in the Warhorse, one that would give the
best Greyhounds something that is rarely seen, a straight stern chase
from Start to Grand Stand and Haven.

VI

The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The Grand
Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a racecourse
appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the dog-grooms
leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples, shrouded in blankets,
but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky necks, their shapely heads
with long reptilian jaws, and their quick, nervous yellow eyes--hybrids
of natural force and human ingenuity, the most wonderful
running-machines ever made of flesh and blood. Their keepers guarded
them like jewels, tended them like babies, and were careful to keep
them from picking up odd eatables, as well as prevent them smelling
unusual objects or being approached by strangers. Large sums were
wagered on these Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored
meat, yes, an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a
superb young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this
might spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first series
are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven from the
Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs, held by the
slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man has to get the Dogs
evenly started and slip them together. On the field is the judge,
scarlet-coated and well mounted. H