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"We're number seven, Mike," said Allis, looking at the leather tag which carried the figure on Jockey Redpath's right arm. "'There's luck in odd numbers, said Rory O'Moore," quoted Mike. "I've a superstitious dread of seven," the girl said; "it's the one number that I always associate with disaster I don't mind thirteen a bit."
All thoughts of overtaking the horses in front fled from his mind; it was the dreaded punishment that interested him most; figuratively, he humped his back against the anticipated onslaught. Redpath felt the unmistakable sign of his horse sulking; and he promptly had recourse to the jockey's usual argument. Sitting in the stand Allis saw, with a cry of dismay, Redpath's whip-hand go up.
As the gale freshened, our skiff shipped so much water that we thought it prudent to put across to the Alnwick shore, which was more under the lee, being sheltered by islands. While passing near one of these, I observed some person walking to and fro, apparently making signals of distress. I called Redpath's attention to this, and bade him "row to the shore that we might ascertain what he wanted."
Langdon knew nothing of Alan Porter's movements had not been interested enough to know. He had heard derogatory remarks about Redpath's riding of Lucretia in the Brooklyn Handicap; the Porters, no doubt dissatisfied suspicious of the jockey had put up Alan to insure an honest ride.
James Redpath organized the first lecture bureau ever established. Mr. Redpath was the biographer of John Brown of Harper's Ferry renown, and as Mr. Brown had been long a friend of my father's I found employment, while a student on vacation, in selling that life of John Brown. That acquaintance with Mr. Redpath was maintained until Mr. Redpath's death.
And, above all, it was needed for the men who have disgraced themselves by denying to Brown the possession of any virtues, and who have outstripped his Southern enemies in applying to him the most opprobrious and the falsest epithets. Now, none of these classes will Mr. Redpath's book reach with effect. Its tone is such, it is so violent, so extravagant, that it will offend all right-thinking men.
Encouraged by Jockey Redpath's explanation of his ride on Lucretia, Allis was anxious that Dixon should take the money her father had set aside for that purpose and back their mare for the Brooklyn Derby. "We had better wait a day or two," Dixon had advised, "until we see the effect the hard gallop in the Handicap has had on the little mare.
I'll give them blasted crooks something to stare at. Don't gallop your mount's head off chasing this sprinter; he'll be beat when we swing into the stretch. Don't go wide at the turn; you can have my place; I'll make it wide for something else though." They were at the post. Allis had not spoken; she had listened gratefully to Redpath's string of kindly directions.
Redpath's book, will be the most dissatisfied with it. It has always been among the offences of the out-and-out Abolitionists, to abuse the force of words, and to make exclusive pretensions to virtue and the love of liberty. This book is written in the spirit and style of an Abolition tract.
Redpath's glowing account of his own splendid success. I pictured myself returning to Canada after an absence of four or five years with a mountain of gold at my command, as the result of my own energy and acuteness. In imagination, I saw myself settled down with Alice in a palatial mansion on Jarvis Street, and living in affluence all the rest of my days.
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