"In the Handicap."
"The Handicap, eh? You must think pretty well of him. Some good horses in that race. Well, there won't be a price on him worth taking; you can bet on that."
Old Man Curry opened his eyes wide for the first time.
"No price on him! Nonsense! He's a selling plater going up agin so-called stake horses! No price! Huh!"
"Even so, nevertheless, notwithstanding, and but," said the Kid with exasperating calmness, "you won't get a price on him. I can quote some myself. The voice of wisdom is speaking to you."
"But he ain't never done anything that would justify starting him with stake hosses," argued Old Man Curry, feeling in his pockets for his fine-cut.
"Is there any law to prevent 'em figuring that he might?"
"But why is Engle worrying about the price on my hosses?" demanded Curry.
"Maybe to get even for what you've done to him. Maybe because he's got some sort of an agreement with Abe Goldmark. You know Abe?"