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Updated: June 2, 2025
He had not gone quite far enough; had not waited for time to demonstrate clearly the horse's temperament, but had recourse to a cocaine stimulant. But with him Lauzanne's case had been exceptional. At first there was little encouragement over Diablo, but almost by accident Langdon discovered that the Black's bad temper was always fanned into a blaze by the sight of the boy Shandy.
"I hear you had an offer of five thousand for your filly, Mr. Porter," half queried Crane. "I did, and I refused it." "And here's the one that'll beat her to-day, an' I'll sell him for half that," asserted the Trainer, putting his hand on Lauzanne's neck.
Even Lauzanne's attack, though it gave Allis a respite, would not have saved her life; the madly fighting horses would have kicked and trampled her to death. "My God! Back, back, you devils!" And pushing, crowding, hugging the side of the stall, Mortimer fought his way to the girl. Once Diablo's hoof shot out and the man's left arm, snapping like a pistol, dropped useless at his side.
"You can't make a slow horse gallop, but there's a chance of curing a horse's temper by kind treatment. I've noticed that a squealing pig generally runs like the devil when he takes it into his head." "Diablo's a squealing pig if there ever was one," growled Dixon. They reached the track stable, and, as if by a mutual instinct, the two men walked on till they stood in front of Lauzanne's stall.
Langdon had raced Lauzanne with sprinting colts, and when they ran away from him at the start he had been unequal to the task of overhauling them in the short two-year-old run of half-a-mile. Then the wise man had said that Lauzanne's courage was at fault; the jockeys had called it laziness, and applied the whip.
Other eyes than Dixon's has seen Lauzanne's strong gallop; other watchers than his had ticked of the extraordinary good time, 2:11 for the mile and a quarter, with the horse seemingly running well within himself, never urged a foot of the journey, and finishing strong, was certainly almost good enough to warrant his winning.
They remembered that his sire, Lazzarone, had a bad temper; but they forgot that he was a stayer, not 'given to sprinting. Even Lauzanne's dam, Bric-a-brac, was fond of a long route, was better at a mile-and-a-half than five furlongs. Lauzanne knew what had come to him of genealogy, not in his mind so much as in his muscles. They were strong but sluggish, not active but non-tiring.
Porter's kid won ten thousand over Lauzanne, and that's why they stiffened the mare." "That's what the Public are up against in this game," sneered the backer of Lucretia. "And the jock'll have to stand the shot; I know how it goes," asserted the Tout. "You ought to know," drawled Lauzanne's backer.
As the horses had flashed past the post, and, after a brief wait for decision, Lauzanne's number had gone up, his backers had hastened eagerly to the money mart, and lined up in waiting rows behind the bookmakers' stands. There they waited, fighting their impatient souls into submission, for the brief wait would end in the acquiring of gold.
"Yes, it'll give him a fair trial it's a mile, an' there ain't no good horses, that is, stake horses, in the race. I'll put Redpath up on him, an' you might have a talk with the boy, if you like. You're onto Lauzanne's notions better'n I am." Allis gave Jockey Redpath the benefit of her knowledge of Lauzanne's peculiarities.
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