Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

14 it snaJc Hagaii llvitl vri(h fury. I;Ii!^ left haiul grippoii Biuldy's coat, whilst liis right haiui was drawn back to strike Biiildy a lioavy punch. Tho L)udc pushed in between ihc two men. •' That will do, Hagan I" His lined face was aggressive. "Choose someone a bit bigger if you want to hit anyone.' "Don't you ineddlo in my ull'airs!" Hagan glared at the Dude. ' I'll settle this young pup !" "What's going on here?" cried a harsh voice, and a thin man with a green oyeshade over his forehead push(>d his way through. "What's all the trouble about?" It was one of the eoinmittce. "Ever heard of Buddy Doyle?" Hagan shouted. "If you iiaven't, then you're looking at him now." "The Dovle who was suspended for riding Roscdawn?" The official eyed Buddy, who bowed his head. " Is your name, Doyle?" "Yes, I am Buddy Doyle.' Ihc jockey faced his accuser. " Hagan wanted me to pull his liorse, and when I refused lis threatened to expose me." "That's a darned lie!" Hagan tried to strike out at Buddy, but again the Dude got in tho way. "I heard part of the conversation," he ^aid to the official. "Hagan certainly wanted his horse not to win as the price was too slion, and he used his know- leilge to try and force Doyle to ride crooked," ,, "Then you are Buddy Doyle? demanded the official. "Yes, I'm Buddy Doyle." "I'm sorry, but you can't ride here. You were suspended for a year. The other matter sl.all be inquired into." The official waved the gathering crowd away before turning to Hagan. " You'H oijlige nie by coming along to my office." Slowly the crowd melted away, leaving only the Dudo and a dispirited Doyle. He \\as hungry, starving, and beaten— not a cent in his pocket. "Cheer up, Buddy!" The Dude patted him heartily on the back. "Take my tip and quit horses for a spell, and get a land job. It'll be forgotten in time. Well, kid, I must be getting along! See you some time! Keep your chin up !" "You are a great pal. Dude!" Buddy held out his hand. "Guess I'll take your tip and try a diflfcrent line. Good- bye, Dude." The Dude held out liis hand. "Best of luck, my lad!" he cried. "Don't forget about keeping your chin np I I saw you ride Roscdawn, and I know you were framed on .some dirty stuff hy Wally Weber. Goodbye again, and huk go with you !" Tho Dude was a hundred yards away before Buddy Doyle realised that some- thing had been thrust into his hand. His eyes almost jumped out of his head. Four five-dollar bills! But he couldn't take them! iMaybe tfie Dude knew how Biiddv would fi'cl. because he had taken to his heels and run. The End of a Long Trail. AGUA CALIEXTK is one of the most famotis race tracks of the West. Situated in a lieautifid valley, and surroiindod by forest land. Someone decided that there was no (iner turf and grass for miles around, and brought horses to the valley; then a small track was built, and later on a town WIS built up round a super race- course. Naturally one must eat, and so restaurants and liotels had sprung up round tho com so, and in one of the cheap eating-house salooiw -i waiter in a .Siptcniber 5tli, JWI. BOY'S CINEMA' white coat ran here and there, fetching and carrying. There were other waiters, but one was only interested in thi.s special one. He was Buddy Doyle. In a way the ex-jockey had made good. He had got work, was well fed and fairly content. Seldom' did Jie ever talk of racing, and none there knew that the waiter by the iiame of Doyle had been famous .in racing circles. He was popular and earning more money than most because he could sing a comic song. A natural gift to pick up all the latest dance numbers and their choruses, and often <ustomer.s would call on Buddy for a song. Nine months had gone by since the never-to-be-forgotten day of the Gold Cup. Often Buddy thought of Sleepy Jones, Pop Blake and others, but ho tried never to think of Babe Ellis. If ever she sang over the .wireless he would try to get as far away as possible. Doyle hurried to the bar. "Two Ifighballs, one lemon fizzcr, a thunder and lightning, and " He ceased as it was obvious the two soda fountain experts were not listening. "I tell you Nimrod won by two lengths, and the objection was over- ruled. Nimrod started at thirty-three to one, because I remember a chap who had five bucks on it." " That boss's name was Nero." "Hoy, how about my drinks?" They .studied liim with displeasure as he gave his order. " AikI let me tell you bozzos something you don't know. The horse was Pernod. Nero was down the course, and the price was something about eights. And I want a little less of the lemon in that fizzer. You soda- jerkers can't tell me anything." "Dang me, but I believe he's right!" gasped the big, jovial-looking barman. "Now who would have thought a little runt like that would know anything about a man's sport. Know anything good for to-day?" Buddy had just handed over the drinks, collected some money and found another order when someone touched fiis shoiUder. "In a moment, sir." The touch be- came more persistent and Buddy swung round. "Gosh, it's Sleepy!" All the old differences were forgotten. In Slcepy's gleaming eyes was the joy of reunion. The two clasped hands and stood staring at each other as if tliey could scarce believe their eyes. "I guess I've trailed you a thousand miles." Sleepy spoke first. "Gee, you look queer in that garb!" "Suits me, old boss," laughed Buddy, and scowled as .someone called him. "Have a drink, Sleepy; I'll be free in half an hour." Arm in arm they strolled through the streets of the town some half-hour later, and Buddy longed to ask questions. "Guess you'd like to know what's been going on." Sleepy gave tho young- ster's arm a reassuring squeeze. " Pop Blake has given up the game. That business " Sleepy knew he was touching on a delicate subject. "Go on, Sleepy; I'd like to know what's been happening." "They wanted you badly." Sleepy shook Jiis head. "Reckon you could have got that suspension washed out if you'd been at the inquiry. There was the blazes of a row. Nothing very definite could bo proved, and as Wally Weber was completely bust, the matter dropped. Pop got kinda fed-up with all the paper talk, and as he had made a packet of money he quit, but he was mighty sorry for you. Buddy, we got Every Tuesday sorta fed-up with you, and we thought a jjretence of Maloney riding would bring you t« your senses, but it •didn't work. After the race I minded our talk, and I knew you had thrown the race and made Six-Shooter win." "Whoop-te-do!" Buddy spoke almost to himself. "I reckon the stewards knew there was something fishy about the whole affair, but they could not condone what you had done. It all leaked out in time, and three months ago Uiey annulled your suspension." "Kind of them." Buddy did not seem very interested. " And what have you been doing all this while. Sleepy?" "Mostly trailing around after you," was the answer. "Doing a bit of train- ing heie and there, but I missed you, boy, and we felt we couldn't rest until " "Did you say 'we'? Who's 'we'?" Sleepy shuffled his feet and ieemed to find difficulty in answering. "Babe Ellis," he said at last, but dared not look at his friend's face. "I don't want to hear anything of her!" Bjddy's voice was hoarse. "We got that gal all wrong, buddy," Sleepy cried. "Listen and hear all about it. Babe was a singer, and wanted to make good, and Weber offered her big money and a contract if she could get a good crowd at his dive. Then he told her that few of the racing fraternity came to his place, and if she could persuade the most popular jockey of the moment to grace his place, then other racing folk would come along. There'd be many anxious to see such a notability as ycrself. She knew nothing about crook stuff, and Weber had spoon-fed the girl that Pop Blake and me were a couple of crooks and that she was sorta saving you by doing this. Gee, you should have seen how she carried ou when you couldn't be found." Buddy Doyle's eyes were glistening. He had mistrusted Babe, and she'd been framed like himself. "That gal came to me and we put notices in the papei-s, but you had van- ished off the earth. A nK)nth ago the Dude came to see me, Jieard I was look- ing for you, and he started me on the trail. Money comes and money goes, Buddy, and I guess you oughta know that Babe lia.s been doing most of the paying." . "Gosh, how I would like to see her a again!" Buddy was flushed with ex- || citement. ^ "Maybe she'll get a job down these ,' parts." i It was on his way back to another spell of waiting that Buddy gave Sleepy a half-frightened, questioning" glance. "What you aim to do now you've _ found me. Sleepy?" \ "Just hang around aiiil see what's *^ doing." Sleepy rubbed his hands to- gether. "I thought I might do a bit of training, with you a.s chief jockey."- "I'm through with the turf!" Buddy spoke viciously. "I ain't got any in- terest left in horses." "Don't you believe, it," scoffed Sleepy. "It's in yer blood. I'll givi* this burg the once-over until you finitJ* for the day." "See you in about a couple of hours.'* . Buddy gripped Sleepy's hands!. "Bui lay off talking about racing." "He'll s.-^oii forget all that nonsense,'* decided Sleepy, as he stared after the cx-jockoy. ""There'll be no holdiug him once J. get him mounted." (Continued on case 26.) I