This is only a roadster.'
"'Only a--what?' I says.
"'Only a roadster--a pleasure car,' he says.
"'Oh--a pleasure car,' I says. 'It's lucky you told me.'
"'It's all in getting accustomed to it,' he says.
"I spends the night at a hotel in Philadelphia with a guy named Ben,
who's the mechanic, 'n' the next mawnin' I sees the race. Say!
Prize-fightin', or war, or any of them little games is like button-button
to this automobile racin'! They kills two guys that day 'n' why they
ain't all killed is by me. The young chap finishes second to some
Eyetalian--but that Dago sure knowed he'd been in a race.
"''N' he's the guy that's afraid of a hoss!' I says to myself. 'Now,
wouldn't that scald you?'
"When he leaves me at my joint in New York the young chap writes on a
card 'n' hands it to me.
"'Here's my name and present address,' he says. 'Let me know when you
hear from our friend Peewee.'
"Printed on the card is 'Mr. William Dumont Van Voast,' 'n' in pencil,
'Union Club, New York City.'
"The next day I gets a wire from Peewee in answer to mine.
"'Sound as a dollar. Eighteen hundred bones buys him. P. W. Simpson,'
it says.
"I phones Mr. Van, 'n' he says to go to it--so I wires Peewee.
"'Check on delivery if sound. You know me. Ship with swipe first
express. Blister Jones.'
"In two days Duckfoot Johnson leads ole Rainbow into the joint, 'n' I
tells Brown it's a hoss fur Mr. Van. I looks him over good 'n' he's O.
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