"But I'll run him just the same.

Smoky has favored this foot before, and it never seemed to hurt him any.

You needn't think I'm going to crawfish.

You must think I'm a whining cuss--say! I'll bet another ten dollars that I don't come in more than a neck behind, lame horse or not!" "Now, kid, don't git chancey," Pop admonished uneasily.

"Twenty-five is enough money to donate to Jeff." "That's right, kid.