"'That's not a bad racing name, is it?' she asks me.
"'No'm,' I says. 'That's a good name.'
"'Very well, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt. 'I christen thee
_Salvation_, with this lump of sugar. That's a fine name! Always bear
it bravely.' She puts her arms around the colt's neck 'n' kisses him
on the nose. Then she hands me the lead strap 'n' steps aside.
'Good-by, and good luck!' she says.
"When we turns the bend, way down the road, she's still standin' there
watchin' us . . .
"I sends the colt down with a swipe, 'n' he's been at the track a week
when I gets to New Awlins. The boys have begun to talk 'bout him
already, he's such a grand looker. He don't give me no trouble at all.
He's quiet 'n' kind 'n' trustin'. Nothin' gets him excited, 'n' I
begins to be afraid he'll be a sluggard. It don't take me long to see
he won't do fur the sprints--distance is what he likes. He's got a big
swingin' gallop that sure fools me at first. He never seems to be
tryin' a lick. When he's had two months prep. I has my exercise-boy
let him down fur a full mile. Man! he _just gallops_ in _forty flat_!
Then I know I've got somethin'!
"His first race I'm as nervous as a dame. I don't bet a dollar on him
fur fear I'll queer it. Anyway, he ain't a good price--you can't keep
him under cover, he's too flashy-lookin'.
"Well, he comes home alone, just playin' along, the jock lookin' back
at the bunch.
"'How much has he got left?' I says to the jock after the race.
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