Blister Jones Part 11

"Say, this Melford is the horsiest burg ever I saw! They don't do nothin' but ride 'em 'n' drive 'em 'n' chew the rag about 'em--men 'n'

women the same. Even the kids has toppy little ponies and has hoss shows fur their stuff.

"They has what they call a Hunt Club, 'n' everybody hangs out there.

This club gives the cup Mr. Van wants to win. The race fur it is pulled off once a year, 'n' only club members can enter.

"The Ferguson guy has won the race twice with the Macbeth hoss 'n' if he wins it again he keeps the cup. The race is due in two weeks, but there ain't much talk about it--everybody knows Ferguson'll win sure.

"This Ferguson has all the kale in the world. He lives in a house so big it looks like the Waldorf. But from what I hear, the bloods ain't so awful strong fur him--except his ridin', they all take their hats off to that.

"There's a girl named Livingston 's the best rider among the dames, 'n', believe me, she's a swell doll--she's the niftiest filly I ever gets my lamps on--she's all to the peaches 'n' cream.

"It don't take me long to see that Mr. Van is nutty, right, about this one, but it looks like Ferguson has the bulge on him, 'cause her 'n'

Ferguson is always out in front when they chase the hounds, 'n' they ride together a lot. We're at Mr. Van's brother's place, 'n' when we first get there Mr. Van puts me wise.

"'Blister,' he says, 'you must now a.s.sume the disguise of a groom. While you and I know we are partners in crime, custom requires an outward change in our heretofore delightful relationship--keep your eyes open and act accordingly.'

"I'm dead hep to what he means, 'n' when I'm rigged up like all the rest of the swipes around there, I touches my hat to him whenever he tells me anythin'.

"Everybody joshes Mr. Van about his ridin', but they get over that sudden--the first time he chases hounds with 'em ole Rainbow 'n' him stays right at the head of the procession. I'm waitin' at the club to take the hoss home after the run. When Mr. Van is turnin' him over to me Miss Livingston comes up.

"'I'm so _proud_ of you!' she says to him. 'It was splendid . . . I told you you could do anything you tried!'

"'Rainbow's the chap who deserves your approval,' says Mr. Van, pointin'

to the hoss.

"'Indeed, he does--the old precious!' she says, 'n' rubs her face against Rainbow's nose. Just then Ferguson rides up with a English gink who's a friend of Mr. Van's, 'n' the dame beats it into the club-house. This Englishman is a lord or a duke or somethin', 'n' he's visitin' Mr. Van's brother. Ferguson ain't on Macbeth. He's rode a bay mare that day, 'n'

Rainbow has outrun 'n' out-jumped her.

"'That's quite a horse you have there, Van,' Ferguson says. 'A bit leggy--isn't he?'

"'Perhaps he is,' says Mr. Van. 'But I like something that can get over the country.'

"'Going to enter him for the cup?' says Ferguson.

"'I don't know yet,' says Mr. Van, careless. 'I must see the committee, and tell them his antecedents--this horse rather outcla.s.ses most hunters.'

"'He doesn't outcla.s.s mine, over the cup course, for five thousand!' says Ferguson, gettin' red.

"'Done!' says Mr. Van, quiet-like. 'If the committee says I'm eligible we'll settle it in the cup race. If not, we can run a match.'

"'Entirely satisfactory,' says Ferguson, 'n' starts to go. But he comes back, 'n' looks at Mr. Van wicked. 'By the way,' he says, 'money doesn't interest either of us at present. Suppose we raise the stake this way--the loser will take a trip abroad, for a year, and in the meantime we both agree to let matters rest--in a certain quarter.'

"'Done!' says Mr. Van again. He looks at the other guy colder 'n ice when he says it.

"Ferguson nods to him 'n' rides off.

"The English gink has heard the bet, 'n' when Ferguson beats it he shakes his head.

"'Aw, old chap!' he says. 'That's a bit raw--don't you think? I'm sorry you let him draw you. It's a beastly mess.'

"'I'm not afraid of him and his horse!' says Mr. Van. But I can see he ain't feelin' joyous.

"'d.a.m.n him and his hawss--and you too!' says the English gink. 'Aw, it's the young girl you've dragged into it, Billy!'

"'It's a confidential matter, and no names were mentioned,' says Mr. Van.

"'Don't quibble, old chap!' says the English gink. 'The name's nothing.

And as for its being confidential--Ferguson is sure to tell that--aw--French puppy he's so thick with, and the viscawnt'll be--aw--tea-tabling it about by five o'clock!'

"'You're right, of course,' says Mr. Van, slow. 'It was a low thing to do--a cad's trick. No wonder you English are so rotten superior. You don't need brains--the right thing's bred into your bones. Your tempers never show you up. We revert to the gutter at the pinch.'

"'Oh, I say! That's bally nonsense!' says the English gink. 'I would have done the same thing.'

"'Not unless the fifteen hundred years it's taken to make you were wiped off the slate,' says Mr. Van. 'However, I'll have to see it through now.'

"The guys that run the club say Rainbow can start in the cup race. Mr.

Van tells me, 'n' the next week I watch him while he sends the hoss over the course. We're comin' up towards the club-house, after the work-out, 'n' we run into Miss Livingston. She hands Mr. Van the icy stare 'n' he starts to say something but she breaks in.

"'I wonder you care to waste any words on a mere racing wager,' she says.

"'Please let me try to explain . . .' says Mr. Van.

"'There can be no explanation. What you did was the act of a boor--and a fool,' says the dame, 'n' walks on by.

"I think over what she says. 'She's more sore cause she thinks he'll lose than anythin' else,' I says to myself. 'He ain't in so bad, after all.' But Mr. Van don't tumble. He's awful glum from then on.

"There's a fierce mob of swells at the course the day of the race, cla.s.sy rigs as far as you can see. The last thing I says to Mr. Van is:

"'You've got the step of them any place in the route, but you're on a thoroughbred, 'n' he'll run hisself into the ground if you let him. You don't know how to rate him right--so stay close to the Macbeth hoss till you come to the last fence, then turn Rainbow loose, 'n' he'll make his stretch-run alone.'

"There's six entries, but the race is between Rainbow and Macbeth from the get-away. Macbeth is a black hoss, 'n' I never believed till then a hunter could romp that fast. He was three len'ths ahead of the field at the first fence, with Rainbow right at his necktie. They gets so far ahead, n.o.body sees the other starters from the second fence on. Mr. Van rides just like I tells him, 'n' lets the black hoss make the pace.

Man!--that hunter did run! Towards the end both hosses begin to tire, but the clip was easier fur the thoroughbred, 'n' I see Rainbow's got the most left.

"Before they come to the last fence Mr. Van turns his hoss loose like I tells him, 'n' he starts to come away from Macbeth. My! but those swells did holler! They never thought Rainbow has a chance. At the last fence he's a len'th in front, 'n' right there it happens Mr. Van don't take hold of him enough to keep his head up, 'n' he blunders at the fence 'n'

comes down hard on his knees. Mr. Van slides clear to the hoss's ears, 'n' the crowd gives a groan as Macbeth comes over 'n' goes by.

"'He's gone!' I says to myself, 'n' I can't believe it when he gets back in the saddle somehow 'n' starts to ride. But the black hoss has a good six len'ths 'n' now two hundred yards to go.

"'He'll never reach . . .' I says out loud. 'He'll never reach . . .'

"Then Rainbow begins his stretch-run with the blood comin' out of his knees, 'n' while he's a tired hoss, a gamer one never looks through a bridle. I ain't knockin' that hunter--there was no canary in him, but I think a game thoroughbred's the gamest hoss that lives!

"Ole Rainbow is a straight line from his nose to his tail. His ears is flat 'n' his mouth's half open fur air. Every jump he takes looks thirty feet long 'n' he's gettin' to the black hoss fast. I'm watchin' the distance to go 'n' all of a sudden I furgets where I am--.

"'He wins sure as h.e.l.l!' I hollers.

"'Oh, will he?' says a voice. I looks up 'n' there's Miss Livingston sittin' on her hoss, her fists doubled up 'n' her face whiter'n chalk.

"About ten len'ths from the finish Rainbow gets to the black 'n' they look each other in the eye. But them long jumps of the thoroughbred breaks the hunter's heart, 'n' Rainbow comes away, 'n' wins by a len'th. . . .