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Updated: May 26, 2025
He can tow-rope this field and drag 'em to death!" "Pzzt!" whispered the jockey. "Not so strong with it, not so strong!" While the horses were on their way to the post the Bald-faced Kid escorted Hopwood to a position in front of the grand stand. "You want to be handy in case he wins," said the Kid. "You'll have to go down in the ring if he does.
Since the Bald-faced Kid's retirement from the turf the Curry secret-service department had consisted of Shanghai and Mose, and there were times when the shambling hostler could be much wiser than he looked. It was Shanghai who drew the assignment. "Boy," said Old Man Curry, "Johnson has got a colt named Zanzibar that starts next Saturday.
Jockey Gillis bowed and saluted. "Judges, can I go now?" said he. "Yes," said the presiding judge, "and don't come back. You're warned off, understand?" "Judges," whined Jockey Gillis, "I ain't done a thing wrong. That old horse, he " "Git!" said the presiding judge. "Now where is that man Hopwood? If he bet much money on this race " The Bald-faced Kid was waiting at the paddock gate.
Solomon was the smartest man that ever lived, I reckon, and there was a lot of things he never figured out. I reckon now, if he'd been in this business " "Good-bye, Mr. Curry," said the presiding judge, "and good luck!" The Bald-faced Kid might see miracles with his eyes, but there was that about him which demanded explanation.
"Extend him and let's see what he's got." "Extend him so's eve'ybody kin see whut he's got!" mumbled Mose rebelliously. "Huh!" In the shadow of the paddock Old Man Curry came upon his friend, the Bald-faced Kid, a youth of many failings, frankly confessed. The Kid sat upon the fence, nursing an old-fashioned silver stop watch, for he was "clocking" the morning workouts.
"Speaking of Mears," said the Bald-faced Kid, "he thinks he'll win to-day with Whitethorn." "Well," said the old man, "I'll tell you, Frank; it's this way 'bout Whitethorn; he'll win if he can beat Obadiah. The colt's ready and this weather suits him down to the ground. He surely does love to run in the slop.
He wrote a lot 'bout women, first and last, but it seems he only remembered two kinds the ones that was too good to live and the ones that wasn't worth killin'. It would have been more helpful to common folks if he'd said something 'bout the general run of women. You'd better tell her, Frank." The Bald-faced Kid sighed. "I'd rather take a licking.
He appeared when least expected, and carried destruction with him. His mare became as noted as her master. In what was then Upper Georgia, she was known as "The Bald-faced Pony." On many an occasion he owed his life to the fleetness of his mare. But his vengeance was never satisfied: it was always active, and thirsting for the blood of the American patriot.
"I think he's tamed enough for the time," said the girl, with a smile. "Anyway I want my rope. It's a good one." She began to untangle the bald-faced steer. He struggled and grunted and tossed his wide, wicked horns free. To tell the truth Pratt was more than a little afraid of him. But he saw that Frances had reloaded the revolver she carried, and he merely stepped aside and waited.
He had few acquaintances and no friends; he ate when he could slept where he could, and life to him was just a continued hard-luck story. Imagine, then, the incredulous amazement of the Bald-faced Kid when Old Man Curry informed him that Jockey Gillis had secured steady employment. "That shrimp?" said the Kid. "Why, if he had the ice-water privilege in hell he'd starve to death!"
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