sell him something myself!"

Little Calamity was in the box stall, industriously grooming a tall,
wild-eyed chestnut animal with four white stockings and a blaze, and
as he worked he hummed a tune under his breath. The tune stopped when
he became aware of a head thrust in at the open door. The Bald-faced
Kid glanced at the horse and his jaw dropped.

"Well, by the limping Lazarus!" he ejaculated. "If they haven't gone
and slipped him Last Chance! Yes, I'd know that darned old hay hound
if he was stuffed and in a museum, and, by golly, that's where he
ought to be! Last Chance!"

"What's it _to_ you?" growled Little Calamity sullenly. "Can't you
mind your own business?"

"Your boss is in big luck," continued the visitor, pleasantly
ignoring Calamity's manner. "The worst horse and the worst jock in
the world--a prize package for fair! Last Chance! His name ought to
be No Chance!"

"Now looka here," whined Calamity, "I never tried to queer anything
for you, did I? Live and let live; that's what I say, and let a guy
get by if he can. If you was right up against it and had a chance to
grab off eating money, you wouldn't want anybody around knocking,
would you? On the level?"

He looked up as he finished, and the Bald-faced Kid's heart smote
him. Little Calamity's face was thinner than ever, there were hollows
under his wandering eyes, and in them the anxious, wistful look of a
half-starved cur which has found a bone and fears that it will be
taken away from him. It occurred to the Kid that even a rat like
Gillis might have feelings--such feelings as may be touched by hunger
and physical discomfort. And there was no mistaking the desperate
earnestness of his plea.

"Things have been breaking awful tough for me around here," he went
on. "Awful tough. You don't know. And then this Hopwood came along.
It ain't my fault if the sucker thinks he's got another Roseben, is
it? He wanted a trainer and a jockey, and somebody else would have
picked him up if I hadn't. It's the first piece of luck I've had
this year. All I want is a chance to string with this fellow as long
as he lasts and get a piece of change for myself. That ain't hurting
you any, is it? He's my only chance to eat regular; don't go scaring
him away."

The Kid was about to reply when a short, fat gentleman waddled around
the corner of the barn and paused, wheezing, at the door of the
stall. A new owners' badge dangled prominently from his buttonhole,
and thi