Part 41 (1/2)
”No, n.o.body is to know but you, Mr. Dixon--you and Mrs. Dixon.”
This suggested a thought to the Trainer. ”The good wife's at work in the kitchen; I'll bring her in. Perhaps she'd like to hire a help,” and he chuckled as he opened a door and called, ”Come here for a minute. This is a boy”--he turned his head away--”I'm takin' on for Lauzanne.”
”Oh,” said Mrs. Dixon. Then, with severe politeness, ”Good evenin', young man.”
The two figures in male attire broke into a laugh simultaneously. The good lady, oblivious to the humorous side of her greeting, flushed in anger. ”Appears to be mighty funny,” she said. ”What's the joke?”
”Oh, nuthin',” replied the husband, speaking hastily. ”Can you give the lad a bed? He wants to bunk here.”
”Why, Andy, you know I can't. There's only Miss Allis's room.”
”Give her--him that.”
”Are you crazy, Andy?”
”It's too bad, Mrs. Dixon; I sha'n't let your husband tease you any more. I am Allis; but I'm glad you didn't know.”
”Oh, Miss Allis, where's your beautiful hair gone? Surely you didn't cut that off just for a joke?”
Then she was taken fully into their confidence; and before Allis retired Dixon had been quite won over to the plan of Allis's endeavor.
In the morning the Trainer asked the girl whether she would ride Lauzanne a working gallop to get accustomed to the new order of things, or would she just wait until race day and take her place in the saddle then.
”I'm afraid Mike'll spot you,” he said--”even Carter may.”
”I'll ride to-day,” declared Allis; ”I musn't take any chances of losing this race through my inexperience. Even Lauzanne will hardly know me, I'm afraid. Mike and Carter needn't see much of me--I can slip away as soon as I've ridden the gallop.”
”Here's a boy's sweater, then,” said Dixon; ”the collar'll half hide your face. I'll get a pair of ridin' breeches an' boots for you by tomorrow. The little mare's in for it sure,” he added; ”her legs are swellin', an' she's off her feed--just nibbles at a carrot. I feel as bad as if it was a child that was sick, she's that gentle. She can't start, an' I'll just tell Redpath that he can take another mount if he gets it. You're still bound to ride the Chestnut?” he asked, by way of a.s.surance.
”Yes, I am.”
”Well, we'll get five pounds off the weight for 'prentice allowance--that's somethin'. I'll arrange about a permit for you. What did you say your name was, mister?”
”Al Mayne, please, sir,” this in the humble tone of a stable-boy.
”Well, Miss--Al, I mean--you can carry Lauzanne around the course at nine o'clock sharp; then you'd better come back here an' rest up all day--lay low.”
”A new boy, I'm tryin',” Dixon explained to Gaynor, after he lifted a little lad to Lauzanne's back at the paddock gate, and they stood watching the big Chestnut swing along with his usual sluggish stride.
”He's got good hands,” said Mike, critically, ”though he seems a bit awkward in the saddle. Ye couldn't have a better trial horse fer a new b'y. If Lauzanne's satisfied with him he can roide onythin'.”
When Allis, who was now Al Mayne, the boy, came around and back to the paddock, she slipped quietly from the horse, loitered carelessly about for a few minutes, and then made her way back to Dixon's quarters.
n.o.body had paid any attention to the modest little boy. Riding lads were as plentiful as sparrows; one more or less called for no comment, no investigation. Even Mike lost interest in the new boy in wondering why Miss Allis had not made her usual appearance.
”How did the horse like it?” Dixon asked of the girl when he returned home.
”Oh, he knew. I whispered in his ear as we cantered along, and he'll be all right--he'll keep my secret.”
”Well, I think he's due for a pipe opener to-morrow. It's just three days till the Derby, an' we've got to give him a strong workout.