But Not The Slightest Disrespect Had Been
Intended, And To Leave The Table Without Making Myself Known Was Not
To Be Thought Of.
I wanted the pleasure, too, of telling those men
that I knew the gait of a pacer very well - that not in the least did I
deserve their pity.
My face was burning and my voice unnatural when I
threw the bomb!
I said, "The horse you are speaking of I know very well. He is mine,
and I ride him, and I thank you very much for the nice things you have
just said about him!" Well, there was a sudden change of scene at that
table - a dropping of knives and forks and various other things, and I
became conscious of eyes - thousands of eyes - staring straight at me,
as I watched my bronco friend at the end of the table. The man had
opened his eyes wide, and almost gasped "Gee-rew-s'lum!" - then utterly
collapsed. He sat back in his chair gazing at me in a helpless,
bewildered way that was disconcerting, so I told him a number of
things about Rollo - how Faye had taken him to Helena during race week
and Lafferty, a professional jockey of Bozeman, had tested his speed,
and had passed a 2:30 trotter with him one morning. The men knew
Lafferty, of course. There was a queer coincidence connected with him
and Rollo. The horse that he was driving at the races was a pacer
named Rolla, while my horse, also a pacer, was named Rollo.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 367 of 410
Words from 98868 to 99127
of 110651
