Old Man Curry

“ Others, not so positive on this point, averred that Old Man Curry slept with one eye open and one ear cocked toward the O'Connor barn, where his enemies met to plot against him.
Summer and winter, heat and cold, there was never a change in the old man's raiment. ”

“ Old Man Curry, leaning against the top rail of the fence, started slightly and turned his eyes in the direction of the sound. The Sharpshooter flashed his gold teeth at him in a cheerful [Pg 26] smile. Old Man Curry shrugged his shoulders and rolled the straw from one corner of his mouth to the other. The associate judge looked at him, asking a question with his eyebrows. There was a stir in the crowd about the stand. A bidding contest is always an added attraction.
"Friend, you don't want this hoss," expostulated Old Man Curry, addressing Engle. "He ain't a race hoss; he's a trick hoss. ”

“ The Bald-faced Kid, who lived by doing the best he could and preferred to be called a hustler rather than a tout, spoke from the tack-room interior. He was a privileged character at the Curry barn.
"How does she look, old-timer? Going to clear up by noon?"
Old Man Curry shook his head. "Well, no," said he. "I reckon not. Looks to me like reg'lar Noah weather, Frank. If a man's got a mud hoss in his barn, now's the time to start him." ”

“ Old Man Curry began to walk away.
"Hold on a minute!" said Slim, trying hard to keep the anxious note out of his voice. "Be reasonable, old-timer. Make me an offer for the horse: one that a sensible man can accept." ”

“ Old Man Curry, standing at the entrance to a paddock stall, lent an unwilling ear to these queries. He was a firm believer in the truth, but more firmly he believed in the fitness of time and place. The whole truth, spoken incautiously in the paddock, has been known to affect closing odds, and it was the old man's habit to wager at post time, if at all. Those who pestered the owner of the "Bible stable" with questions about the fitness of Jeremiah and his chances to be first past the post went back to the betting ring with their enthusiasm for the black horse slightly abated. ”

“ They're both blind. Here's what bothers me: Old Man Curry is in that same race with Isaiah."
"Well, what of that?" said Engle. "That old fool is all same as a nightmare to you, ain't he?"
"Call him a fool if you want to," was the stubborn rejoinder, "but he made an awful sucker out of you with that trick horse of his. An awful sucker. If Old Man Curry is a fool, there's a lot of wise people locked up in the bug houses. That's all I've got to say!"
"He's had your goat ever since the meeting opened," grinned the Sharpshooter.
"That's all right," said O'Connor. ”

“ Retaining his interest in the rustic by the simple expedient of thrusting a forefinger through his buttonhole, the Kid leaned toward the old man.
"See what your little nigger did, riding that horse out yesterday morning? You might have got 2 or 3 to 1 on him if Mose hadn't tipped him off to every clocker at the track!"
[Pg 139]
Old Man Curry digested this remark in silence.
"I hear that Engle is sending the mare for a killing," whispered the Kid. "Know anything about it?"
"Everything is bein' sent for a killing to-day," said Old Man Curry. "Well, she'll have 'Lisha to beat, I reckon. ”

“ The Bald-faced Kid drew out the leather-backed volume which was his constant companion, and began to thumb the leaves rapidly. "You're always heaving your friend Solomon at me. I'll give you a quotation I got out of the Fourth Reader at school—something about judging the future by the past. Look here: 'Jeremiah bled and was pulled up.' 'Jeremiah bled badly.' Why, everybody around here knows that he's a bleeder!"
"There you go again," said Old Man Curry patiently. "You study them dad-burned dope sheets, and all you can see is what a hoss has done. ”

“ A big, jovial-looking man, striding rapidly toward the stables, overtook them from the rear and announced his presence by slapping Old Man Curry resoundingly on the back. "Tough luck!" said he with a grin. "Awful tough luck, but you can't win all the time, you know, old-timer!"
"Why, yes," said Curry quietly; "that's a fact, Johnson. Nobody but a hog would want to win all the time. And I wish you wouldn't wallop me on the back thataway. I most nigh swallered my tobacco."
Johnson laughed loudly. "How do you like our track?" ”

“ Moseby Jones was carried off the track in a gorgeous floral horseshoe, his woolly head bobbing among the roses and his teeth putting the white carnations to shame. Shanghai danced all the way from the judges' stand to the stables, not an easy feat when one considers that he was leading the winner of the Thornton Stakes, also garlanded and bedecked within an inch of his life, but, in spite of all his floral decorations, extremely dignified.
Old Man Curry fought his way through a mob of reporters and fair-weather acquaintances to find himself face to face with the only real surprise of the day. ”

“ Old Man Curry smiled and returned to Solomon.
"'A scorner seeketh wisdom and findeth it not, but knowledge is easy unto him that understandeth.'"
"Yes—'unto him that understandeth!' [Pg 160] That's the point; I don't understand. Nobody understands. Here's a dead horse come to life and he's got everybody guessing. Miracles are all right, but I'm never going to bet on one until I know how it's done. Say, old-timer, ain't you going to tell me what's happened to Eliphaz?" ”

“ Old Man Curry combed his beard with both hands—with him a sign of deep thought.
"Frank," said he at length, "where does this Chicken Liver nigger go while the race is being run?"
"Across the track to the infield. That was where he went yesterday. I was watching him."
"The infield.... Hm-m-m.... Thank you, Frank."
"You could tip it off to the judges," suggested the Kid, "and they'd have Chicken Liver searched. Like as not they'd rule Weaver off for life and set Murphy down——"
"There's a better way than searching that nigger," said Old Man Curry. ”

“ Before the judges knew that anything had happened a shabby, bearded old man in a rusty black frock coat dodged across the track from the paddock gate and splashed hurriedly through the infield. Old Man Curry never used binoculars; he had the eyes of an eagle.
"Been looking for it to happen every day!" he muttered. "And a right likely colt, too. The skunks! The miserable little skunks!"
Whitethorn, the winner of the race, was back in the ring and unsaddled before the old man reached the half-mile pole. ”

“ The saddling bell rang, and the jockeys trooped into the paddock, followed by the roustabouts with the tackle. Old Man Curry, waiting quietly in the far corner of Elisha's stall, saw the Bald-faced Kid wriggling his way through the crowd. He came straight to the old man. ”

“ He's so near nothing that a lot of folks can't tell the difference. If you said to me: 'This is a black [Pg 152] horse named Fairfax and that over there is nothing,' I couldn't tell which was which. Old-timer, you're in bad."
"Mebbe I am." Old Man Curry's tone was apologetic and conciliating in the extreme. "Mebbe I am. You ought to know 'bout hosses, Frank. You most gener'ly do."
"Cut out the sarcasm, because here's one I do know.... You made a sucker of me on Jeremiah, but don't rub it in. ”

“ The direct and compelling gaze is an absolute necessity in the touting business because the average man believes that the liar will be unable to look him in the eye. Little Calamity could not look any man in the eye without first undergoing a surgical operation. He had few acquaintances and no friends; he ate when he [Pg 101] could slept where he could, and life to him was just a continued hard-luck story.
Imagine, then, the incredulous amazement of the Bald-faced Kid when Old Man Curry informed him that Jockey Gillis had secured steady employment. ”

“ Old Man Curry clinched this general opinion by entering into no entangling alliances with brother owners, and the bookmaker did not live who could call him friend. He attended strictly to his own business, which was training horses and racing them to win, and while he did not swear, drink liquor, or smoke, he proved he was no Puritan by chewing fine-cut tobacco and betting on his horses when he thought they had a chance to win and the odds were to his liking. ”

“ When this word was brought to Old Man Curry he lumbered heavily up the steps and into the judges' stand, where he refused a chair and delivered himself standing, the water dripping in tiny puddles from the skirt of his long black coat.
"Gentlemen," said he, "you're barking up [Pg 53] the wrong tree. I've been expecting something like this ever since the meeting opened. My little boy can't ride a race 'thout interference from these rascals that take their orders from Engle and his bunch. They've tried a dozen times to put him over the fence, and now they've killed a good hoss for me. ”

“ That young man is entirely too strong in the arms to suit me. It struck me the last three times he rode this horse. But somebody is betting on Elisha to-day. That may make a difference, and if it does, we may have to ask Mr. Sharpshooter Engle a few questions."
"Leave it to him to answer 'em," said the associate judge. "It's the best thing he does. [Pg 35] That fellow is like a hickory nut—smooth on the outside, but hard, awfully hard, to get anything out of.... Old Man Curry is in this race with Elijah. ”

“ Mulligan, he say to me jus' befo' he lights out, 'Gabe,' he say, 'that Smith colt, he belong to you by rights. Pitkin, he pulls a switch afteh yo' went to bed that first night.' He say he seen him do it."
"Mebbe the boy was just tryin' to stir up a little more trouble," suggested Old Man Curry. ”

“ If you got couple nice, big, moon-face' dollahs to inves', [Pg 209] they can't he'p but notice you. They got to do it!"
Old Man Curry smiled and dipped two fingers and a thumb into his vest pocket.
"Thank you, suh!" chuckled Shanghai, trying hard to appear surprised. "Thank you! This sutny goin' combine business with pleasuah!"
"Get away with you!" scolded Old Man Curry.
Now, nearly every one knows that the simon-pure feed-box information, the low-down and the dead-level tip, may be picked up behind any barn where hostlers, exercise boys, and apprentice jockeys congregate. ”

“ Old Man Curry led Elisha toward his barn, [Pg 19] the little negro trailing behind, addressing the horse in terms of endearment. "You ol' wolf, on'iest way to beat you to-morreh is to saw all yo' laigs off. You as full of run as a hydrant, 'at's whut you are, ain't you, 'Lisha?"
Two horsemen were standing in the door of a feed room as the queer procession passed. ”

“ As in other branches of sport, Van Loan was quick to see this and he gave us story after story of the kind that men love to read and chuckle over and retail to the first man they meet. And so when you peruse the pages of Old Man Curry's book, you will find Charlie Van Loan at his very best. When one says that it means you will follow a trail blazed by one of the most masterly short story writers we ever had. Better yet, he writes about real people and they do real believable things. You are not asked to stretch your imagination or endeavor to form an excuse for the happening as portrayed. ”

“ Johnson hurried on toward the stables, laughing loudly at his ancient jest, and Old Man Curry looked after him with a meditative squint in his eyes.
"'As the crackling of thorns under a pot,'" he quoted soberly. "A man that laughs all the time ain't likely to mean it, Mose, but I don't know's I would say that Johnson is exackly a fool. No, he's a pretty wise man, of his breed. He owns a controllin' interest in this track (under cover, of course) , he's got a couple of books in the ring, and the judges are with him. ”

“ The maidens came floundering down to the wire spread out like a cavalry charge and covering half the track. At the sixteenth pole a bold man would have hesitated to pick the winner; indeed, it looked to be anybody's race, with the sole exception of The Cricket, sulking far in the rear. It was Gabe Johnson who saw that the wraps were still about Mose's wrists, [Pg 270] but it was Old Man Curry who chuckled to himself as the horses passed the paddock gate, and it was Shanghai, Curry's negro hostler, who began to count tickets on General Duval. ”

“ Mr. Weaver, come up here, sir! And where's that nigger? I want him too. Murphy, I'll see you later.... Don't go away, Mr. Curry. I need you."
"That's what I call getting hunk with a vengeance, old-timer." Thus the Bald-faced [Pg 67] Kid, at the door of Old Man Curry's tack-room. "You cleaned up right, didn't you? Weaver's ruled off for life, and his horses with him—he can't even sell 'em to another stable. Murphy's lost his license. Chicken Liver's out of a job. Engle and his bunch are in the clear, but they lost a lot of money on the mare. Regular old blunderbuss, ain't you? ”

“ Old Man Curry raised one eyebrow slightly and continued his discourse.
"For a man even to figger on gettin' married, he ought to have something comin' in steady—something that bad hosses an' worse men can't take away from him. He oughtn't to bet at all, but if he does it ought to be on a mortal cinch. There ain't many real cinches on a race track, Frank; not the kind that a married man'd be justified in bettin' the rent money on. Yes, sir, a man thinkin' 'bout gettin' married ought to have a job—and stick to it!" ”

“ Always when the slow night of Asmarad began to fall, Brey felt anew the soul-wrenching loneliness. This was a twilight made for the old pleasures that over the centuries had never changed. For gathering by the campfire and singing the old songs, for the spice of well-cooked meat, for whispers in the dark and strolls through the forest, for a woman's lips on yours. And back on Earth, under the shadows of the spaceships ready to hurtle the light-years across the galaxy, there was laughter on the lips of man, and their hearts held room for love. ”