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Updated: June 12, 2025
And some there were who cursed Drake and Major Calvert; cursed long and intelligently those who had bet on Speedaway and Dixie, bet on the play-or-pay basis, and now that the mounts were scratched, they had been bitten. It was entirely wrong to tempt Fortune, and then have her turn on you. She should always be down on the "other fellow" not you.
Of course Garrison had been to the dogs during the past year what down-and-out jockey has not gone there? And if Drake had transferred him to Desha, it was a case of good riddance. Drake was famous for his eccentric humor. But he was a sound judge of horse-flesh. No doubt he knew what a small chance Speedaway had against Swallow, and he had scratched advisedly; playing the Morgan entry instead.
We've got to work in the dark, for the colonel would die first if he knew the truth, before he would accept help even indirectly. The Rogue must win; must. But what chance has he against the major's Dixie, my Speedaway, and the Morgan entry Swallow? And so the major has scratched his mount, giving out that Dixie has developed eczema.
There were good horses entered against The Rogue. Major Calvert's Dixie, for instance, and Speedaway, the wonderful goer owned by that man Drake. Then there were half a dozen others all from well-known stables. There could be no doubt that "class" would be present in abundance at the Carter. And only he had so much at stake.
Those who wield the muck-rake for the sake of general filth, not in the name of justice, shook their heads and lifted high hands to Heaven. It looked bad. Why should Garrison be riding for Colonel Desha? Why had Jimmie Drake transferred him at the eleventh hour? Why had Drake scratched Speedaway? Why had Major Calvert scratched Dixie?
Probably the eminent lawyer's business had increased so enormously that he had been compelled to vacate the niche he held in the Nassau Street bookcase. But Drake had not given up the fight. Meanwhile Garrison had commenced his life of regeneration at the turfman's Long Island stable. He was to ride Speedaway in the coming Carter Handicap.
Your identity, if possible is not to be made known to the colonel and his daughter until the finish of the Carter. Understand?" "No," said Garrison flatly. "Why?" "Because, kid, you're not going to ride Speedaway. You're not going to ride for my stable. You're going to ride Colonel Desha's Rogue ride as you never rode before. Ride and win. That's why." Garrison only stared as Drake ran on.
He had just sent Speedaway over the seven furlongs in record time, and his heart was big with hope. Drake never wasted ammunition in preliminary skirmishing. He told the joke first and the story afterward. "I've been South. Seen Colonel Desha and Major Calvert," he said tersely. Garrison was silent, looking at him.
He nodded up the aisle where the turfman was entertaining the major and his wife. "There's a man, Sue, dear. A man whose friendship is not a thing of condition nor circumstance. I will always strive to earn, keep it as I will strive to be worthy of your love. I know what it cost Drake to scratch Speedaway. I will not, cannot forget. We owe everything to him, dear; everything."
You can't mean you've scratched Speedaway!" "Just that, kid," said Drake grimly. "The first scratch in my life and the last. Speedaway? Well, she and I will win again some other time. Some time, kid, when we ain't playing against a man's life and a girl's happiness. I'll scratch for those odds. It's for you, kid you and the girl. Remember, you're carrying her colors, her life.
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