"Why are they placing men with guns every ten feet along the track?"

"The Indian can beat the Australian, but he thried to sell the boys out,
an' if he slackens his gait by ever so little, the b'ys will begin
shootin' sthraight before them. An' maybe afther the race, he'd better
be runnin' right on into the next county."

"What next?"

"Next is a jackass fight, an' then, the race!"

After the billigerent jacks had been led away, Red Pete suddenly took to
the brush, accelerated by a fusillade of bullets.

"Welchin' his bets, he is, an' ivery man he owes is lettin' him have
it."

"Nary a hit!" wailed old Jack Horner. "The shootin' in this camp is
a-gittin' vile! Time we was quittin so d - much pick handlin, an'
a-practicin' up. It's a reflection on the community. Why, there ain't
been a Chinaman drilled with a bullet decent an' clean for weeks!"

"They're leading out the horses! Where did that little nigger jockey
come from? The mare's got more ginger today."

"Eric, surely your horse can win!"

"I don't know, dear."

"He must! He must, or - "