"We leads the hoss to the gate, 'n' there's a booky's clocker named
Izzy Goldberg.
"'You an exercise-boy now?' he asks Joe.
"'Not yet,' says Joe. 'Mu cousin here owns this trick, 'n' I'm givin'
him a work.'
"'Up kind-a early, ain't you? Say! He's good, ain't he, Joe?' says
Izzy; 'n' looks at the bird close.
"'Naw, he's a mutt,' says Joe.
"'What's he doin' with his mouth open at the end of that mile?' Izzy
says, 'n' laughs.
"'He only runs it in fifty,' says Joe, careless. 'I takes hold of him
'cause he's bad in front, 'n' he's likely to do a flop when he gets
tired. So long, Bud!' Joe says to me, 'n' I takes the bird to the barn.
"I'm not thinkin' Izzy ain't wise. It's a cinch Joe don't stall him.
Every booky would hear about that work-out by noon. Sure enough the
_Item's_ pink sheet has this among the tips the next day:
"'Count Noble'--that was the bird's name--'a mile in forty-four.
Pulled to a walk at the end. Bet the works on him; his first time out,
boys!'
"That was on a Saturday. On Monday I enters the bird among a bunch of
dogs to start in a five furlong sprint Thursday. I'm savin' every
soomarkee I gets my hands on 'n' I pays the entrance to the secretary
like it's a mere bag of shells. Joe Nickel can't ride fur me--he's
under contract. I meets him the day before my race.
"'You're levelin' with your hoss, ain't you?' he says. 'I'll send my
valet in with you, 'n' after you get yours on, he'll bet two hundred
fur me.
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