Scobey accepted the challenge and the date was fixed. There was the wildest possible excitement in Plymouth. Greenfield did not share in it, as there were no horsemen there, the village consisting of one Presbyterian Church, a dry goods store, and a blacksmith shop. But Plymouth absolutely boiled. Carpenter poured oil upon the fire by confidentially assuring everybody that “Nero” could get away with “Calico” without the slightest trouble; that he knew “Calico” like a book, and knew exactly what he could do, and if the people of Plymouth were wise, they would impoverish Greenfield, or rather the Norwalk parties, who were to back “Calico.”
His advice was taken. Every man in Plymouth who could raise a dollar went to that race at Greenfield and staked his money on “Nero,” on Carpenter’s assurance as well as their own confidence. There was nobody doing much betting on “Calico,” except Mr. Scobey and one or two others, and they held off at first, which gave Plymouth more confidence. So eager were we to despoil the adverse faction that we gave great odds, all of which Mr. Scobey and his confreres took, finally, with a calm confidence that should have taught us better. But it didn’t. I remember that I wagered every dollar I had with me, and some more that Mr. Carpenter kindly lent me, taking my note, and in addition to this a sixteen-dollar silver watch.
The first heat was won by “Nero,” easily, and Mr. Carpenter winked to Plymouth to make another assault upon the purses of Greenfield. We did it. We gave even greater odds than before, which Mr. Scobey required, as he admitted that his chances were very slim.
“But,” he remarked, “I will bet one to ten on anything.”
To our surprise the second heat was won by “Calico,” by just about a head. Then Mr. Scobey offered to take even bets, and he would have got a great many but for the fact that Plymouth had staked her entire wealth already.
The next and decisive heat was run. It was closely contested. Each horse seemingly did his best, and the jockeys seemed to ride properly. Alas for Plymouth! “Calico” won, as he did the second heat, by just a head.
The indignation of Mr. Carpenter knew no bounds. He grasped his jockey by the neck and pulled him from the horse, and accused him of giving away the race, and he stormed about the track very like a madman.
“Pete,” he said finally, “Nero kin beat that cart horse of yours ez easy ez winkin. I’ll run yoo two weeks from to-day at Plymouth for two hundred dollars a side, and I’ll hev a rider that won’t sell out to yoo.”