"
"Nary a hit!" wailed old Jack Horner. "The shootin' in this camp is
a-gittin' vile! Time we was quittin so d - much pick handlin, an'
a-practicin' up. It's a reflection on the community. Why, there ain't
been a Chinaman drilled with a bullet decent an' clean for weeks!"
"They're leading out the horses! Where did that little nigger jockey
come from? The mare's got more ginger today."
"Eric, surely your horse can win!"
"I don't know, dear."
"He must! He must, or - "
"Slick-heels Saul's face is turnin' the color of me native isle,"
chuckled Irish Mike. "Patty, me little ladybird, 'tis no time to be
faintin'!"
"Oh, you can't know - "
"Faith, an' I know more than you t'ink. Bear up, Asthore, the darkest
hour is just forninst the dawn. Whisht, now! They're off!"
"Here they come! The black is ahead! See, the nigger is lying flat on
the mare's neck. She's closing up! Oh, they are neck and neck! I cannot
look. Eric - The black is getting the whip. Good horse! They are even
again! Ah, it is only for a moment.
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