"'Oh, Billy, not here!'
"They don't come along fur half an hour. When they does, Mr. Van says to me:
"'Lead Rainbow to the Livingston stables, Blister. He has a new owner.'
"'Does you get a good price fur him?' I says, like I don't tumble to nothin'.
"'What a remarkable groom!' says Miss Livingston.
"'Isn't he?' says Mr. Van. Then he comes 'n' grabs me by the mitt. 'Don't worry about the price, old boy,' he says. 'No horse ever brought so much before!'"
SALVATION
At the invitation of Blister Jones I had come from the city's heat to witness the morning "work-outs". For two hours horse after horse had shot by, leaving a golden dust-cloud to hang and drift and slowly settle.
It was fairly cool under the big tree by the track fence, and the click of Blister's stop-watch, with his varied comments on what those clicks recorded, drifted out of my consciousness much as had the dust-clouds. Even the thr-rump, thr-rump, thr-rump of flying hoofs—crescendo, fortissimo, diminuendo—finally became meaningless.