statements of intention
Curry selected one.

"No," said he, "I reckon you won't beat that German kid to death. He
didn't know any better. You won't lay a finger on him, because why?
He's on a railroad train by now, goin' home to Cincinnati. I reckoned
his mother might like to see him. And you ain't goin' to make no
trouble for me, Johnson. Not a mite. You might whip a little kid, you
big, bulldozin' windbag, but I reckon you won't stand up to a man, no
matter how old he is!"

"I--I'll have your entries refused!"

"Don't go to no such trouble as that," was the soothing reply. "There
won't be no more Curry entries at this track. A just man might fall
down seven times again in such a nest of thieves an' robbers! Tell
that to your judges, an' be damned!"

And, head erect, shoulders squared, and eyes flashing, Old Man Curry
started for the betting ring to collect his due.

EGYPTIAN CORN

"Well, you great big hammer-headed lobster, what have you got to say
for yourself, eh? _Don't_ stand there and look wise when I'm talking
to you! Ain't there a race in this country long enough for you to
win? A mile and a half ought to give you a chance to open up and
step, but what do you do? You come last, just beginning to warm up
and go some! Sometimes I think I ought to sell you to a soap factory,
you clumsy false alarm, you ugly old fraud, you cross between a mud
turtle and a carpenter's bench, you----"

At this point Slim Kern became extremely personal, speaking his mind
concerning the horse Pharaoh, his morals, his habits, and his
ancestors. Some of his statements would have raised blisters on a
salamander, but Pharaoh listened calmly and with grave dignity.

Pharaoh was not handsome. He was, as Slim had said, a hammer-headed
brute of imposing proportions. But for his eyes no turfman would have
looked at him twice. They were large, clear, and unusually
intelligent; they redeemed his homely face. Without them he would
have been called a stupid horse.

An elderly gentleman sat on a bale of hay and listened to Slim's
peroration. As it grew in power and potency the listener ceased to
chew his straw and began to shake his head. When Slim paused for
breath, searching his mind for searing adjectives, a mild voice took
advantage of the silence.

"There now, Slim, ain't you said enough to him? Seems like, if it was
me, I wouldn't cuss a hoss so strong--not _this_ hoss anyway. He
ain't no fool. Chances are he knows more'