XVI. OLD TUTTLE’S LAST QUARTER RACE.

As a matter of course a quarter race never goes off without old Tuttle being thar—and he never attends without doing some business! So on Thursday he makes his appearance on the track, on a bay gelding, (with white hind feet,) which he calls “Indian Dick,” and allows he’s as good a scrub as there’ll be on the ground! As old T. is known, and Dick has been heard of, the boys are rather shy—but one of them thinks he’s got a scrub that’s “some pumpkins!” and would like to know, without too much cost, how far Dick can beat him; he, therefore, proposes to run them three hundred yards, for “sucks all round.” Old T. understands the game, and says:

“No, I don’t want yer to treat this crowd, but I’ll run with yer just to show yer hoss can’t run!”

This was what H. wanted, as he thought he could tell the speed of a horse, even tho’ old T. did ride him; so back they go to the score, and are off—with (as might be expected) H. a-head, and old T. in the rear, whipping and spurring like mad, and letting his horse go just fast enough to put H. at about the top of his speed—but he can’t quite come it.

“H.’s horse is too smart and can beat him every inch of the road.”

So says H., and most of the crowd are of the same opinion.

Old T. says he believes he can beat H. Saturday, as “Dick’s shoes are loose, and heavy, and he can’t run in ’em.”

There was nothing more said about it, till old Tut made his appearance next morning, when the boys were after him with “Sharp Sticks” and “Hot Bricks.” One wanted to bet him a horse on H.’s colt, versus his Indian Dick—another a V., another an X., and so on.

“Hold yer hosses b’hoys! Don’t be all after the old man at wunst. Wait a while and he’ll commerdate yer! He’s an old man, and b’lieves he knows mor’n all on yer; but he don’t want all yer money at wunst. He wants to be onatel with yer, so he can cum agin.”

This course didn’t set them back any, as they thought the old man was scary, and they were after him the faster.

Some of the more wary cautioned them to look out, but they didn’t want no caution—they knew what they was about. They could beat old Tuttle, and they were going to “do the State some service” by skinning him. They’d make the “old cuss” poor afore they left him!

He took it all very coolly, advised some of them to save their money for the next time. He was an old man and b’lieved he knowed more’n all on ’em. His father didn’t teach him for nothin’ sixty-five years ago! But the boys said that was all gass to scare them off; but ’twouldn’t work! The old cuss had got to be skinned or back out.

The result was, they got up a horse and fifty dollars a side, to run on Saturday, at two o’clock, each one to start and ride his own horse, judge tops and bottoms—the winning horse take the cakes—and no back out. Either party refusing to run forfeits the whole stakes.

Things went on smooth that day—some thinking old T. was playing some game with the boys, but what it was, no one could tell. However, before night, it was known there was a secret among the boys. They knew the speed of Dick, and knew they could slay him; but there mustn’t anything be said about it, as when they got the old man on the track and right, they were going into him the whole amount of his fixins. They’d caught the old man napping once. They’d got a plaguy sight faster horse than he thought for, and now they were going to pay off old scores.

Two o’clock came, and found old T. on the spot leading Dick round, and telling the boys they’d be surprised when they see Dick run his best—at the same time “doing what business offered,” but somehow the boys appeared a little scary. Old T. was “on hand” for every offer, and no mistake; and ’twas known he never bet liberally, unless he “had a sure thing.” So that the betting soon began to lag, and the old man had the call, but no takers. Finally the old man said:

“I’ve got a little more money, b’hoys, and I wouldn’t mind givin’ you a chance at two to one for it.”

But this set them clar back—no one dare bite. There not appearing any more chance for investment, the old man stripped off his hat, coat, vest, and boots, tied a red cotton bandanna around his head (as an old man only can tie it), then pulls off the cloths and saddle from Dick, and mounts bare-back, declaring himself ready.

He mounted, and the word was given to “clear the track!”

Then Old T. says: “Are yer ready?”

“Yes.”

“Go along then!”

And over the score they go, H. a length ahead. But, oh! Jeminy! see Dick run! Before you could turn round twice, the ends of Old T.’s bandanna were pointing out the road for H., and at the outcome Dick was one, H. nowhere.

Anybody that has seen a “quarter-horse” run by a “dunghill” knows how this was—no one else can appreciate it—the thing was out. Old T. really knew more than all of them, sure enough; but what was the secret, and how could those in the secret be so stuck? That’s the idea.

The secret was, “the boys” stole Old Tuttle’s horse on Thursday night, and run him with H.’s horse, and beat him easy. And the way they were stuck was this: The old man supposing that they would steal his horse that night, and run him, had put Dick’s cloths on another horse of the same colour and marks, and about the same size, and put him in Dick’s stall, starting a shoe, so that if they run him they would lose it, and he should know they had taken the bait good. In the morning the shoe was gone.