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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 05, 1913, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-06-05/ed-1/seq-18/

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By Ctffton Halliday.
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
Danbury saw that the man was
lying in the middle of .the road, in
imminent danger of beingrun down
by the whirling autompbiles that fol
lowed each other in" a never-ending
stream He shook him but the man
did not respond. Then, lifting him in
his arms, the youngmdrican earned
What's the Odds on Silver King?"
him to the side of the highway and
laid him down under a tree.
Automobiles and carriages stream
ed past them, but no one stopped to
notice the recumbent -man. For this
was at Kempton Park, and one of the
classic races of the year was to be
run. All the fashionable folk of Eng
land had turned out for the racing,
and all the uafashionables of the dis
trict, afoot, on horseback; in pony
carts and behind donkeys, men,
women and babes, a shouting,
whooping mob.
The man had evidently fainted;
there was no smell of liquor upon his
breath. He was elderly, thin, gaunt,
wild-looking. Leaving him there,
Danbury ran to a public house near
by and bought a flask of brandy and
some sandwiches. Returning, he
tried to force the liquor between the
man's teeth, but he clinched his jaws.
"No, no!" he muttered, beginning
to revive. "I promised my dying
mother that I would never touch
liquor. Food, for heaven's sake1"
He munched the sandwiches greed
ily, and presently seemed so far re
covered as to sit up. He stared at
his rescuer.
"Have they run the Victoria stakes
yet?" he implored.
"Not, I believe, till three o'clock,"
Danbury answered.
"Then help me to the course. It's
a matter of thousands." He looked
at Danbury thoughtfully. "Help me
there and I'll show you what an old
man's gratitude means."
Half an hour later they were seat
ed by the side as near the track as
they could get. It was .fifteen min
utes before the race. The horses had
been led out of their paddocks. The
old fellow stared at each as- he went
"There!" he cried, as a poor-looking
animal went by. "That's .Silver
King.. He's being quoted at forty to
one -a rank outsider. And he'll win
he's mine."
"That horse is yours?" ejaculated
"Mine, every inch of him. And now
I'm going to make your fortune," re
plied the other. "Listen!"
"Ten years ago Silver King was a
Derby winner. Never mind what his
name was then. He was mine, and
I won ninety thousand pounds on
him. It went to wine, women and
Bong squandered, sir, as easily as it
came. I lost everything; I lost Silver
King. He was sold to a millionaire.
But his jockey misused him and he
wouldn't run. At last he was sold
again as a hackney, then he Becamq

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