d. "And that was when
you wasn't bettin' yourself."

Jeff turned injuredly to Bud. "Now don't that sound like a piker?" he
complained. "It ain't reason to claim I'd pull my own horse. Ain't that
the out doinest way to come back at a man that likes a good race?"

Bud swelled his chest and laid his hand on Jeff's shoulder. "Just
to show you I'm not a piker," he cried recklessly, "I'll bet you
twenty-five dollars I can beat your Skeeter with my Smoky horse that I
rode in here. Is it a go?"

Jeff's jaw dropped a little, with surprise. "What fer horse is this here
Smoky horse of yourn?" he wanted to know.

Bud winked at the group, which cackled gleeful!, "I love the sport of
kings," he said. "I love it so well I don't have to see your Skeeter
horse till Sunday. From the way these boys sidestep him, I guess he's a
sure-enough running horse. My Smoky's a good little horse, too, but he
never scared a bunch till they had cramps in the pockets. Still,"
he added with a grin, "I'll try anything once. I bet you twenty-five
dollars my Smoky can beat your Skeeter."

"Say, kid, honest I hate to take it away from yuh. Honest, I do. The way
you can knock the livin' tar outa that pyanny is a caution to cats. I
c'd listen all night. But when it comes to runnin' horses--"

"Are you afraid of your money?" Bud asked him arrogantly. "You called
this a bunch of pikers--"

"Well, by golly, it'll be your own fault, kid. If I take your money away
from yuh, don't go and blame it onto me. Mebbe these fellers has got
some cause to sidestep--"

"All right, the bet's on. And I won't blame you if I lose. Smoky's
a good little horse. Don't think for a minute I'm giving you my hard
earned coin. You'll have to throw up some dust to get it, old-timer. I
forgot to say I'd like to make it a quarter dash."

"A quarter dash it is," Jeff agreed derisively as Bud turned to answer
the summons of the music which was beginning again.

The racing enthusiasts lingered outside, and Bud smiled to himself while
he whirled Honey twice around in an old-fashioned waltz. He had them
talking about him, and wondering about his horse. When they saw Smoky
they would perhaps call him a chancey kid. He meant to ask Pop about
Skeeter, though Pop seemed confident that Smoky would win against
anything in the valley.

But on the other hand, he had seen in his short acquaintance with Little
Lost that Pop was considered childish--that comprehensive accusation
which belittl