The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The Grand
Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a racecourse
appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the dog-grooms
leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples, shrouded in blankets,
but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky necks, their shapely heads
with long reptilian jaws, and their quick, nervous yellow eyes--hybrids
of natural force and human ingenuity, the most wonderful
running-machines ever made of flesh and blood. Their keepers guarded
them like jewels, tended them like babies, and were careful to keep
them from picking up odd eatables, as well as prevent them smelling
unusual objects or being approached by strangers. Large sums were
wagered on these Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored
meat, yes, an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a
superb young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this
might spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first series
are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven from the
Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs, held by the
slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man has to get the Dogs
evenly started and slip them together. On the field is the judge,
scarlet-coated and well mounted. He follows the chase. The Hare,
mindful of his training, speeds across the open, toward the Haven, in
full view of the Grand Stand. The Dogs follow the Jack. As the first
one comes near enough to be dangerous, the Hare balks him by dodging.
Each time the Hare is turned, scores for the Dog that did it, and a
final point is made by the kill.
Sometimes the kill takes place within one hundred yards of the
start--that means a poor Jack; mostly it happens in front of the Grand
Stand; but on rare occasions it chances that the Jack goes sailing
across the open Park a good half-mile and, by dodging for time, runs to
safety in the Haven. Four finishes are possible: a speedy kill; a
speedy winning of the Haven; new Dogs to relieve the first runners, who
would suffer heart-collapse in the terrific strain of their pace, if
kept up many minutes in hot weather; and finally, for Rabbits that by
continued dodging defy and jeopardize the Dogs, and yet do not win the
Haven, there is kept a loaded shotgun.
There is just as much jockeying at a Kaskado coursing as at a Kaskado
horse-race, just as many attempts at fraud, and it is just as necessary
to have the judge and slipper beyond suspicion.
The day before the next meet a man of diamonds saw Irish Mickey--by
chance. A cigar was all that visibly passed, but it had a green wrapper
that was slipped off before lighting. Then a word: "If you wuz slipper
to-morrow and it so came about that Dignam's Minkie gets done,
wall,--it means another cigar."
"Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would flyer
score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad luck."
"That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right--fix it so; it
means two cigars."
Slipper Slyman had always dealt on the square, had scorned many
approaches--that was well known. Most believed in him, but there were
some malcontents, and when a man with many gold seals approached the
Steward and formulated charges, serious and well-backed, they must
perforce suspend the slipper pending an inquiry, and thus Mickey Doo
reigned in his stead.
Mickey was poor and not over-scrupulous. Here was a chance to make a
year's pay in a minute, nothing wrong about it, no harm to the Dog or
the Rabbit either.
One Jack-rabbit is much like another. Everybody knows that; it was
simply a question of choosing your Jack.
The preliminaries were over. Fifty Jacks had been run and killed.
Mickey had done his work satisfactorily; a fair slip had been given to
every leash. He was still in command as slipper. Now came the final for
the cup--the cup and the large stakes.