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"Cut out the sarcasm, because here's one I do know.... You made a sucker of me on Jeremiah, but don't rub it in. This Fairfax looks like a stake horse and on his breeding he ought to run like one, but he simply can't untrack himself in any kind of going. If hay was two bits a ton and this black fellow had an appetite like a humming bird, he wouldn't be worth feeding. I'm telling you!"
Jockey Gillis; hm-m-m. There's a sweet combination for you! A horse that can't untrack himself, a jockey that never rode a winner, and a half-witted grocer! Why couldn't the chump stick to the little villainies that he knows about sanding the sugar and watering the kerosene? I declare, sir, if I had half an excuse I'd refuse the entry of that horse and warn Hopwood away from here!
What had happened was that both these horses are the kind it makes my throat hurt to see. Middlestride is long and looks awkward and is a gelding. He belongs to Joe Thompson, a little owner from home who only has a half dozen horses. The Mullford Handicap is for a mile and Middlestride can't untrack fast.
"Back nothin'! The last time out she couldn't untrack herself; an' today she comes, without any pull in the weight, and wins in a walk from The Dutchman; and didn't he beat her just as easy the other day?" Belle Langdon looked into Crane's face, and her eyes were charged with a look of reciprocal meaning. Crane winched.
He couldn't begin to untrack himself till he had gone a mile, but after that it seemed like every mile he went he got better. I held a watch on him an' he ran four miles close enough to the record to show me that he had a chance in the Thornton Stakes. Five weeks ago I shipped him out to Port Costa an' took him off the train there " "Holy Moses!" breathed the Kid. "I begin to get it, but go on!"
Instead of rushing to the front, the cherry jacket was rapidly dropping back. It was McManus who broke the stunned silence. "In front in ten jumps, hey? He's last in ten jumps, that's what he is: stiffer'n a board! And look where Curry's nigger is, will you?" "To hell with Curry's nigger!" barked Johnson. "Look at the colt! He he can't untrack himself: runs like he was all bound up somehow!
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