Bred In The Bone | Page 5

himself over the rashness of youth.
"Jes like he pa," he muttered. "Never could teach him to tek keer o' a hoss. Think all a hoss got to do is to run! Forty mile, an' want to put him at a five-foot fence when he cold as a wedge!"
When he was inside the stable his manner changed. His coat was off in an instant, and no stable-boy could have been more active. He set about grooming the horse with the enthusiasm of a boy, and the horse after the first inquisitive investigation of his new attendant, made with eye and nose, gave himself up to his care. The young owner did the same, only watching him closely to learn the art of grooming from a past-master of the craft.
It was the first time in years that Robin had played hostler; and it was the first time in his life that that horse had ever had such a grooming. Every art known to the professor of the science was applied. Every muscle was rubbed, every sinew was soothed. And from time to time, as at touch of the iron muscles and steel sinews the old fellow's ardor increased, he would straighten up and give a loud puff of satisfaction.
"Umph! Ef I jist had about a week wid him, I 'd show 'em som'n'!" he declared. "Imported Learn----"
"He don't need any time. He can beat anything in this country," asserted the owner from his perch on a horse-bucket.
"You ain' see 'em all," said Robin, dryly, as he bent once more to his work. "An' it 's goin' to rain, too," he added, as the rumble of thunder came up louder from the westward.
"That 's what I am hoping for," said the other. "He 's used to mud. I have ridden him in it after cattle many a day. He can out-gallop any horse in the State in mud."
Robin looked at the young man keenly. He showed more shrewdness than he had given him credit for.
"Kin he jump in mud?" he demanded.
"He can jump in anything. He can fly. If you just had let me take him over those fences----"
Robin changed the subject:
"What 's his name? I got to go an' enter him."
The boy told him. The old man's countenance changed, but the other did not see it. He was busy getting a roll of bills--by no means a large one--from his pocket.
"How much is it? I have the money all right." He proudly unrolled the money, mostly dollar bills. The old negro took the roll and counted the money slowly.
"Is dis----?" he began, but stopped. After a minute's thought he went over them again.
"Heah." He took out about half the money, and handed the rest back. "Wait. I 'll tend to it." He reached for his coat. "Don't you do nuttin' to him while I 'm gone, an' don't you lef' him, not a minute." He put on his coat and went out.
His path led out from among the stables to the wing of one of the buildings where the superintendent and his staff had their offices. Here a colloquy took place between Robin and the cigar-smoking, dark-skinned clerk in charge, and then Robin left and paid a visit to another kind of official--an official on the main road, just outside the grounds, who kept an establishment which was divided into two departments. One was dignified by the word "Caf��" painted in black letters on the white ground of the painted pane, though on the door was the simple American word "Bar." Over the door of the other was an attempt to portray three gilded balls. The proprietor of this bifurcated establishment, a man with red hair, a low forehead, a broad chin, and brawny shoulders, a long lip and long arms, rejoiced in the name of Nicholas Crimins, though by most of his customers he was irreverently called by a diminutive of that name. The principal part of his business undoubtedly came from the side of the establishment with the short name; but it was known to the stable-fraternity that on occasion "Old Nick" would make an advance to a needy borrower who was "down on his luck" of at least fifteen per cent, of almost any article's value. Saddles, bridles, watches, pistols, scarf-pins, and all the indiscriminate belongings of a race-track population were to be found in his "store." And it was said that he had even been known to take over a stable when the owner found it necessary to leave the State on exceptionally short notice.
Into this odorous establishment old Robin now went and had a brief interview with the proprietor, whose surprise at the old trainer's proposition was unfeigned. As he knew Robin was not a gambler, the money-lender could set down his request to only one of