ast. Now I don't know's I would put a nickel on him."

"Neither would I, suh. And, speaking of breakfast, Mr. Curry, will
yo' join me in a grilled kidney?"

"Thank you just the same, judge, but I reckon I better be gettin'
back to the track. I had my breakfast at sunup. I thought you ought
to know the straight of how this black hoss come to change owners."

"I am indebted to you, suh," said the major, with a bow.

Jockey Merritt, wearing Engle's colours, stood in the paddock stall
eyeing Eliphaz and listening to the whispered instructions of the new
owner.

"Get him away flying, jock, and never look back. He's a fast breaker.
Keep him in front all the way, but don't win too far."

"Bettin' much on him?" asked Merritt.

"Not a nickel. He opened at even money and they played him to 4 to
5. I don't fancy the odds, but you ride him just the same as if the
last check was down--mind that. On his workout yesterday morning he's
ready for a better race than any he's shown so far, so bring him home
in front."

The bugle blared, the jockeys were flung into the saddles and the
parade began. The race was at seven-eighths, and as the horses passed
the grand stand on the way to the post Jockey Merritt heard his name
called. Major Pettigrew was standing on the platform in front of the
pagoda, bawling through a megaphone.

"Boy, bring that black hoss over here!"

Merritt reined Eliphaz across the track, touched the visor of his cap
with his whip, and looked up inquiringly.

"Son," said Major Pettigrew, "you're on the favourite, so don't make
any mistakes with him. I want to see you ride from start to
finish--and I'm goin' to be watchin' you. That's all."

"I'll do my best, judge," was Merritt's answer.

"You see that the hoss does his best," warned the major. "Proceed
with him, son."

The Handicap was a great race, but we are concerned with but one
horse--Eliphaz, late Fairfax. When the barrier rose Jockey Merritt
booted the spurs home and tried to hurl the big black into the lead.
He might as well have tried to get early speed out of a porpoise.
Eliphaz grunted loudly and in exactly five lumbering jumps was in
last place; the other horses went on and left the favourite snorting
in the dust. Jockey Merritt raked the black sides with his spurs and
slashed cruelly with his whip--the favourite would not, could not get
out of a slow, awkward gallop.

"Blankety blank it!" exclaimed Major Pettigrew to the associate
judge.