“Gee, I bet that will be exciting! As I never saw one, I think I will stop and watch it for awhile.”
Around the field, in and out, went the small polo autos after the ball. It was the most exciting thing he had ever watched and he wondered how in the world the players were not all killed, for the autos turned upside down, collided, skidded and ran head-on into each other. But after each mishap the men seemed to get up, shake a little dust off their clothes, wipe the dust from bleeding noses, and go right on with the game.
He was wildly excited and was watching with straining eyes a brilliant player when a heavy hand was laid on him and a gruff voice said: “Here you, old fellow, come along with me! You have caused all the trouble you are going to since your escape. And don’t you know it is almost time for your race around this ring in the donkey and dog race?”
“Gee! He takes me for some goat that is down to run a race with some donkeys and dogs, I take it. Well, I am game! I’ll go along and race to suit him. And I bet on myself to win that race.”
Billy was right. That was just what the man wanted of him, and with little preliminaries Billy was led to the starting place and hitched to a little racing sulky that a little darkey boy was to drive. Near by he saw two little donkeys, two big dogs and one goat hitched to sulkies like the one to which he was being harnessed.
He was led into the ring, the others were led up also and all of them stood in line. Then a bell rang, and they were off. It had been a long time since Billy had been in a race. Being out of practice running, he was left behind at first as his legs felt stiff and he was a little out of breath. But his pride got the better of his short breath and stiffness when he saw they were all ahead of him. He could not stand it to be beaten. He who had won every race he ever had been in. Oh, no! He would show them he was not too old and stiff to beat them. This was to be a three-lap race, which gave him encouragement.
“They can have their first lap; I’ll have my second wind and all my stiffness will be gone on the second. Besides the ones who start off the briskest often come in last.”
“Here, Billy, what is the matter with you? You must be sick to lag so on this race. Get a move on you or your rival, the slate-colored donkey, will beat you!” urged the boy that was driving him, never doubting that our Billy was the goat he had always driven.
With a bound forward that nearly threw the boy off his seat, Billy started on a mad run. Off he went, rounding corners and ever increasing his speed until he had passed all but his rival, the slate-colored donkey. When he came abreast of him, it was nip and tuck to the poles, but Billy came in a neck ahead.