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Tell Massacree" that was the word that stuck them all, and I could perceive that Neighbor was talking emphatically. He had apparently forgotten Bartholomew's last name, and was trying to connect with the one he had "disremembered" the night before. "Tell Massacree," repeated Neighbor, "that he is al-l-l right. Tell hi-m I give him double mileage for to-day all the way through.
Lucretia, third! They're al-l-l weighed in!" A Niagara of human beings poured from the lawn to the ring; they ran as though the course was on fire and they sought to escape. "What about Lucretia?" some one asked. "They've broke McKay," the red-faced crier answered; "suspended him." "What did I tell you?" sneered the Tout, maliciously; "it's the under dog gets the worst of it every time."
The racing men within earshot smiled, for the Tout had been a jockey before his license had been taken away for crooked work. "Hello! here it comes," cried Lauzanne's backer, as a fat, red-faced man came swiftly down from the Stewards' Stand, ran to the betting ring, and pushing his way through the crowd, called with the roar of a gorilla: "Al-l-l right! Lauzanne, first! The Dutchman, second!
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