"Friday morning was cloudy," said the doctor, after he had brought his pipe to a satisfactory glow, "and I half hoped that it would rain before noon, for I was getting the least shade nervous. Everybody around our headquarters was so very kind that it made me fidgety as a school-girl. At breakfast, in mess, the colonel thoughtfully opened an elaborate discussion about the proper form of ceremonies at military burials. The adjutant, on his way to guard mounting, stopped long enough at my tent to say that 'Acme' just had killed one of the hostlers, and that the band had gone out of camp soon after breakfast for the purpose of practising 'The Lost Chord.' And you, Langforth—confound you! I haven't forgotten how you forged my name to an order to have the brigade ambulance report to me at noon, the very hour of the race.
"But somehow the morning went by, and at noon the sky was beautifully clear, though the air was most horribly lifeless and hot. I dressed up in full fig, helmet, sword, and all, according to the conditions, mounted 'Acme,' and rode out upon the parade.
"Pretty nearly the whole brigade had turned out to see the fun, and around the start the crowd was packed closely, while groups of men were scattered here and there along the three furlongs of turf over which the course had been laid out. I had supposed that there would be, at the very least, half-a-dozen entries; but when I had succeeded in manœuvering 'Acme' through the crowd and up to the line, I found awaiting me just one solitary horseman. It was Porter, captain of "H" troop, and his mount was the same beautiful thoroughbred that he rides from one year's end to the other.
"Wasn't I sick! I never had a patient who felt worse than I did then. But there was no such thing as backing out at that stage of the game, and so I looked as confident as possible, and happier, I hope, than I felt. But when Porter saluted me, with an inquiring sort of glance at my tired-looking mount, and a grin at my audacity in showing up on such a beast, why, I swore under my breath that I'd send the spur into poor old 'Acme' deeply enough to scratch his digestive apparatus."
"It was a funny contrast," laughed Langforth, with his mug in mid-transit from the table to his lips. "Of course, Bones, you're a better looking man, and all that, than Porter; but that horse of his is a perfect picture for style, and when Charley's old skate ambled up beside him we couldn't help grinning, any of us. Do you remember, Pollard, how that grease spot on 'Acme's' flank showed up?"
"Do I?" roared the major. "Don't I! Why, Bowen, of the brigade-staff, was standing next me, and when he caught sight of that daub of axle-grease he punched me in the ribs and said, 'So you fellows have black-leaded your craft, eh? Now, I call that blasted unsportsmanlike! The other man hasn't worked any funny games like that.'"
"That was all right!" said the surgeon, grimly, "I had my fun later—after the race was run.
"We lined up for the start, and it'll be a long while before I forget the row it raised when I persisted in planting 'Acme' at right angles to the course. Porter got mad, and announced that he'd come out to race, and not to take part in a circus. Most of the brigade set me down for being either sunstruck or drunk, but I wouldn't budge, and neither would 'Acme.' Finally Porter growled out, 'Let's have this nonsense over with! It isn't my fault that we can't have a race. Start us, will you?' 'All ready, major?' the starter asked me. 'Confound it all—yes!' said I, looking to see that all was clear around me, and then getting a death-grip on the pommel.
"Down went the flag, and off went Porter at an easy gallop. Up came my spurred heel, and off went 'Acme,' too, after a whirl-around that took away the breath of everybody who saw the performance, and knocked end-ways a couple of gunners who had edged in too close to the course. Shades of night! How that old four-legger flew! I'd rammed my spur home for business, and the way he responded beat even my wildest expectations.