s he fingered from time to time with manifest pride. He peered
in at Last Chance and beamed upon the Bald-faced Kid with the utmost
friendliness, his thick eyeglasses giving him the appearance of a
jovial owl.

"Well," said he heartily, "I see you're looking him over, young man.
He's mine; I just bought him, and I think I got him cheap. Pretty
fine-looking horse, eh?"

The Kid nodded gravely.

"You bet your life!" said he with emphasis. "Take it from me, he is
_some_ horse!"

"Some horse is right!" chimed in Little Calamity fervently. "Just
wait till I get him in shape, boss, and I'll show you how much horse
he is!"

"And that," said the Bald-faced Kid, "is no idle statement."

"Frank," said Old Man Curry, "you're making more of a fool of that
Hopwood than the Lord intended him to be, and it's a sin and a
shame. Why can't you let him alone?"

"Because he hands me many a laugh," said the Bald-faced Kid, "and
laughs are good for what ails me. He is a three-ring circus and
concert all by himself, but he doesn't know it, and that's what makes
him so good. And innocent? Say, the original Babes in the Wood
haven't got a thing on him. If he stays around here these
sharpshooters will have his shirt."

"And you're helping them to get it with your lies. First thing you
know you'll have him betting on that hoss when he starts, and Last
Chance never won a race in his life and never will. He can quit so
fast that it looks like he's going the wrong way of the track.
Hopwood was around here to-day all swelled up with the stories you've
been feeding him. It ain't right, my son, and, what's more, it ain't
_honest_. You might just as well pick his pockets and give the
money to the bookmakers."

"The bookmakers won't get fat on what they take away from him," was
the careless rejoinder. "This fellow has got a groceryman's heart.
He can squeeze a dollar until the eagle screams for help, and he
never heard of Riley Grannan. If he bets at all it won't be more
than a ten-dollar note. Last Chance goes in the second race
to-morrow--nonwinners at the meeting--and I'm going down to the
stable now to have a conference and give Calamity his riding
orders."

"I wash my hands of you," said the old man. "Fun is all right in its
place, but fun that hurts somebody else has a way of coming home to
roost. Don't forget that, my son."

"Aw, who's going to hurt him?" was the sulky rejoinder. "I'm only
helping the chump to buy some of the expe