Save, and keep in perfect peace.
The Horse Race.
We left Sam Wiles, Zibe Turner and other disturbers of the peace in the county jail. In due time they were brought before Judge LeMonde for trial. They were found guilty and sentenced to prison for one month.
A few days after their liberation the following conversation took place:
Turner: "Most all de folks on de hills and in de valleys air goin' to de races tomorrer, and I look for a gay o' time."
Wiles: "Yes, and all de niggers that can get off'n work will be there too."
Turner: "Dat feller from Lexington has a right smart of a hoss. You know he wants me to ride him in de last race, and I'm bound to beat George LeMonde, if beat is in de critter. His hoss stands seventeen hands high, is rangy in de legs, has a deep chest, and has a will to go. He can easily bear my weight, and you know dat dey count me de best jockey in de whul county. If I can't win by far (fair) means, I will by foul."
Wiles: "I hearn dat Jack Ketcham's sorrel goes like de wind, and Jack's hoss is goin' to be in de big race."