"He give a sigh. I knowed he was no early riser.

"'All right,' he says. 'Where'll you be?'

"'At the half-mile post,' I says. 'I'll have him warmed up fur you.'

"'All right,' he says again--'n' that night I don't sleep none.

"When it begins to get a little gray next mawnin' I takes the bird out
'n' gallops him a slow mile with a stiff breezer at the end. But
durin' the night I gives up thinkin' Joe'll be there, 'n' I nearly
falls off when I comes past the half-mile post, 'n' he's standin' by
the fence in a classy overcoat 'n' kid gloves.

"He takes off his overcoat, 'n' comes up when I gets down,'n' gives a
look at the saddle.

"'I can't ride nothin' on that thing,' he says. 'Slip over to the
jocks' room 'n' get mine. It's on number three peg--here's the key.'

"It's gettin' light fast 'n' I'm afraid of the clockers.

"'The sharp-shooters'll be out in a minute,' I says.

"'I can't help it,' says Joe. 'I wouldn't ride a bull on that saddle!'

"I see there's no use to argue, so I beats it across the center-field,
cops the saddle 'n' comes back. I run all the way, but it's gettin'
awful light.

"'Send him a mile in forty-five 'n' see what he's got left,' I says, as
I throws Joe up.

"'Right in the notch--if he's got the step,' he says.

"I click Jameson's clock on them, as they went away--Joe whisperin' in
the bird's ear. The back-stretch was the stretch, startin' from the
half. I seen the bird's mouth wide open as they come home, 'n' Joe has
double wraps on him. 'He won't beat fifty under that pull!' I says to
myself. But when I stops the clock at the finish it was at
forty-four-'n'-three-quarters. Joe ain't got a clock to go by
neither--that's judgin' pace!--take it from me!

"'He's diseased with speed,' says Joe, when he gets down. 'He can do
thirty-eight sure--just look at my hands!'

"I does a dance a-bowin' to the bird, 'n' Joe stands there laughin' at
me, squeezin' the blood back into his mitts.

"We leads the hoss to the gate, 'n' there's a booky's clocker named
Izzy Goldberg.

"'You an exercise-boy now?' he asks Joe.

"'Not yet,' says Joe. 'Mu cousin here owns this trick, 'n' I'm givin'
him a work.'

"'Up kind-a early, ain't you? Say! He's good, ain't he, Joe?' says
Izzy; 'n' looks at the bird close.

"'Naw, he's a mutt,' says Joe.

"'What's he doin' with his mouth open at the end of that mile?' Izzy
says, 'n' laughs.

"'He only runs it in fifty,' says Joe, careles