Cinder Path Tales

12 CINDER-PATH TALES I felt, I say, that in running for a wager with a professional I was forfeiting my standing as a gentleman amateur, andmy claim to be considered agentleman at all. Jennie thought the same thing, and came mighty near a quarrel with her uncle over the matter. But he, led more by the ambi­ tion to pull off a good thing than by mer­ cenary motives, would not give up his plan, though Jennie beggedwith tears inher eyes, — an argument whichhad never before been ineffectual. It was only when I had lived on his bounty a full week over the month that he hinted, delicately enough (for a right good fellow was ha), thatmy time was up. There was nothing else to do but consent,and a week later the "Boston Herald" announced that there was "a match on between Chipper Simmons and Hacking's Unknown, $200 to $100, distanceone hundred yards, to be run May 1, at Hacking's Brighton track, at four o'clock in the afternoon," I had three weeks of careful training on the wretched little track, andwhen the morn­ ing of May 1 dawned I was fit as possible, and able to run for my life. It was not an English May day, but more like what I was used to seeing in the Old Country amonth earlier. The sky was blue, and across it