piece o' change that I'm willin' to put up on our man. How do yuh feel?'

"Waal, I wasn't goin' to let the guy bluff me, so I covers his money to
the tune o' fifty bucks. 'I s'pose Jenkins, the feller that nearly pulled
down the prize last year, is goin' to run fer you, ain't he' I asks,
never suspicionin' that he'd say anythin' but 'yes.'

"'Not any,' he answers, grinnin' satisfied like; 'we've got another man
this year, an' a streak o' greased lightnin' is plumb slow an' ploddin'
alongside him.'

"'An' who is this yere maverick?' I asks him, feelin' like somebody'd hit
me when I wasn't lookin'.

"'Johnson is his brand,' says the sport; 'stick around a while an' I'll
point him out t' yuh. There he is now,' he says sudden-like, pointin' to
a guy amblin' along the sidewalk with half a dozen kids taggin' at his
heels, 'there's the guy what's goin' to make your runners look like
candidates from a young ladies' finishing school. Take a good look at
him, Chip, so yuh'll know him the next time yuh see him.'

"Waal, boys, I took a good look, as this sport suggests, and I'm a
pop-eyed tenderfoot if I didn't recognize the guy right off. I couldn't
jest place him at first, but in a few seconds I remembered where I'd seen
him last."

"An' where was that?" questioned Sandy, while everybody listened eagerly
for his answer.

"It was at a function thet come near bein' a lynchin' party," answered