He had put away all the appearance of
youth, and was a crafty and sly man.
It was apparent that the whole outfit was in the racing business, and as
the crowd looked at the discrepancy between the two horses, and observed
that on the best-looking horse was a professional jockey, while on the
crowbait was only a girl, something like a groan went up.
But some of them were game, and cheered Stella to the echo.
"You're all right!" shouted her supporters.
"Hurrah fer ther girl jockey," yelled the cow-punchers. "I got a month's
wages that says she'll win the race."
But the other side had something to say, also. They made all sorts of
fun of Hatrack, and roars of laughter went up as he ambled,
stiff-legged, onto the course.
Clay Whipple was chosen to start the race, and stood beside the track
with a red flag in his hand. The two horses were jockeyed back and forth
for several minutes.
"Are you ready?" shouted Clay, as they came up.
"No!" shouted Stella.
"No!" answered the jockey.
Back again they went, and came up neck and neck, the riders nodding to
Clay.
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