And so they came back, the sleigh
box still dragging behind, the pintos executing fantastic figures on
their hind legs, and Sandy holding them down. The little Frenchman
struck a dramatic attitude and called out--
'Voila! What's the matter wiz Sandy, heh?'
The roar that answered set the bronchos off again plunging and kicking,
and only when Baptiste got them by the heads could they be induced to
stand long enough to allow Sandy to be proclaimed winner of the race.
Several of the lumbermen sprang into the sleigh box with Sandy and
Baptiste, among them Keefe, followed by Nelson, and the first part of
the great day was over. Slavin could not understand the new order
of things. That a great event like the four-horse race should not
be followed by 'drinks all round' was to him at once disgusting and
incomprehensible; and, realising his defeat for the moment, he fell into
the crowd and disappeared. But he left behind him his 'runners.' He had
not yet thrown up the game.
Mr. Craig meantime came to me, and, looking anxiously after Sandy in
his sleigh, with his frantic crowd of yelling admirers, said in a gloomy
voice, 'Poor Sandy! He is easily caught, and Keefe has the devil's
cunning.
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