I hope he'll win if Mister
Bobo's horse don't."
"Nal," whispered Mandy, "you've not been betting against Comet, have
you?"
"That's what I have, Mandy. I've got my hull stack o' chips on this
yere half-mile dash."
"But, Nal, Comet will win sure. Grandfather's crazy about the colt. He
says he can't lose no-way."
"That's all right," said Nal. "I'm glad he feels so well about it. Set
his heart on winnin', eh? That's good. Say, I guess I'll sit right
here and see the race. It's handy to the judges' stand, and the horses
are all on the track."
In fact, for some time the runners had been walking backwards and
forwards, and were now grouped together near the starter. Mr. Bobo was
in the timer's box, chuckling satanically. Fifteen hundred dollars,
according to his own computation, were already added to a plethoric
bank account.
"Yer feelin' well, Mister Bobo," said a bystander.
"I'm feelin' mighty well," he replied, "never was feelin' better,
never. There's a heap o' fools in this yere world, but I ain't
responsible for their mistakes--not much," and he cackled loudly.
After the usual annoying delay the horses were dismissed with an
excellent start.
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