"Darned if I know. I guess that's just his way of kidding.... Hello! They're off!"
"Yes, and that thing of Curry's got away flying."
"He'll quit about the time he hits the head of the stretch," said Engle. "He gets his mail there.... Merritt has got Elisha in on the rail, taking it easy, as I told him to. Believe me, that baby is some stretch runner!"
"It cost me enough to find it out!" said O'Connor shortly.
Engle peered through his binoculars.
"Unless he breaks a leg, or something"—here O'Connor hastily knocked wood—"we'll clean up," said Engle, critically. "Elisha is fighting for his head—wants to run. I don't care where he is, turning for home. He'll run over that bunch in the last quarter."
"Yes, but look at that Elijah go!" muttered O'Connor.
"Let him go!" said Engle, with a trace of irritation. "He'll come back; he always does. Bet you fifty he's last!"
"Got you!" snapped O'Connor. "You may not know any more about this one than you did about Elisha last month!"