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Updated: June 29, 2025
Alan in the bank is all right, but Alan as a jockey would be a different thing." "Father, you would trust me, wouldn't you?" "I guess I would, in the tightest corner ever was chiseled out." "Well, you can trust the jockey that's going to ride Lauzanne just as much. I know him, and he's all right. He's been riding Lauzanne some, and the horse likes him."
He had been told that the Porters had not given him the mount on Lauzanne because they distrusted him. He had been put on the horse to make running for The Dutchman. There was nothing really patently dishonest about this arrangement, and Redpath's mind had been dulled to fine discrimination by the idea that he was falsely distrusted.
"I see that fly-by-night divil Shandy talkin' to ye as I come in. What new mischief is he up to now?" "He wants me to pull Lauzanne." "He ain't got no gall, has he? That come from headquarters; it's Langdon put him up to that." "He was talkin' to me, too." "I t'ought he would be. But he didn't know ye, Miss Allis " Heavens! It was out.
"I knew he was a quitter;" the woman's companion was pessimistic. Like trees of a forest, swayed by strong compelling winds, the people rocked in excitement, tiptoed and craned eager necks, as they watched the magnificent struggle that was drawing to a climax in the stretch. Inch by inch the brave son of Hanover was creeping up on Lauzanne.
She saw the dangling rein, the set look in her father's face, the devil eyes of the horse, and for one breath-gasp her heart fluttered in its beat. As quickly she put the fear from her, and swinging Lauzanne a shade wide, left Diablo more room next the rail. "On, Lauzanne!" she called through drawn lips; and hitched encouragingly in the saddle.
Is it worth while?" "Lauzanne is going to do great things for us, father. I'm sure of it." "Still young, Allis. I talked like that when I was your age. Fancy and horse racing go arm in arm always, and they're like an experienced man of forty hobnobbing with the little love god; they're just about as well mated."
And of the horses, Lauzanne, who would gallop for no one but Allis, would be brought back to Ringwood, to be petted and spoiled of his young mistress for the good he had done. Lucretia, when convalescent, would also come to the farm to rest and get strong. In the midst of it all Dr. Rathbone came in, and of course, man-like and doctor-like, with pretended pomposity, said: "I told you so.
Mortimer listened eagerly; to the babbler at his side; to the whisper in his ear; to himself, that spoke within himself. Even if it were not all true, if Lauzanne were beaten, what of it? He would lose a hundred dollars, but that would not ruin him; it would cause him to save and pinch a little, but he was accustomed to self-denial.
"She's sure to keep well, and we'll be forced to take a much shorter price race day." "Back the stable," advised Allis, "then if anything happens Lucretia we can start Lauzanne." The Trainer laughed in good-natured derision.
"You're wrong, Gaynor," declared a thin, tall, hawkfaced man, who was in his shirt sleeves; "my boy was in that run, and it isn't Carson's fault at all. It's dope, Mike. Lauzanne was fair crazy with it at the post; and McKay was dead to the world on the little mare the Starter couldn't get him away." "That's right, Mike," added Dixon; "Carson fined the boy fifty, an' the Stewards set him down."
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