This incident was a reminder to Gilbert that Clara had not responded to any of his letters. He was sure she was still his best friend. The last time he was with Clara they were young and had a strong friendship, but now he was getting different thoughts about girls. He looked at Laura as she poured water into a glass for Mr. Barnhart. He thought how beautiful she was.
Charles’s father George gave a speech at the dinner table, in regards to the night Charles was born in Chatham, New York in 1856, “I was at sea when Charles was born, but his mother told me he came out of the womb, counting his fingers.” There was a great chuckle from the guests, including Charles himself. He used this opportunity to give Charles some comfort in the fact he had missed the birth of his twin boys. George gave Charles a sympathetic look. Charles winked at his father, indicating message received.
When the dinner was finished, the female guests proceeded to the parlor while the men went to the den. Laura and Gilbert cleaned up after the dinner, Gilbert noticed how soft her hair was and she smelled so nice. He did enjoyed working with her. He had friends at school, but never made time for them outside of school. He spent nearly all his free time working with the horses.
When Laura and Gilbert were finished cleaning up the last dishes Laura asked him, “Gilbert, I was wondering if you would walk me home?”
He was confused how to answer, but quickly figured there was no harm in walking her home. It wasn’t like he had to marry her or anything. He had walked Clara home so many times so long ago.
Laura said with a gleam in her eye, “A true gentleman would.”
“Sure.”
“Thank you,” she responded with a smile.
Once their duties were finished Gilbert assisted Laura with her coat. They slipped away as the voices slowly faded away as they walked. Laura liked Gilbert and wanted to get him to like her. She had known him for many years and after Clara had befriended him, she saw him differently. She saw him as a very polite young man.
Laura broke the awkward silence, “Do you ever take time away from your work? You always seem to be working, never playing or goofing around.”
“Well,” Gilbert explained, “there isn’t much I would rather do than take care of the horses.”
“There is more to life than just horses.”
“Sure, but there isn’t anything else for me.”
“I guess you’re still too young to have true feelings for a girl.”
He thought of Clara and what he felt for her now. She should have gotten word to him somehow over the years. “I’m not too young.”
Laura smiled, grabbed his arm and tugged at it, “You should be my friend.”
Gilbert appreciated the attention, “All right, you are my friend,”
Laura smiled, “Meet me at the steel bridge bench tomorrow night at six.”
Gilbert had nothing to do the next night, “All right.” He was moderately excited about meeting her, yet he was wishing most deeply he would be meeting Clara. He decided to pretend she was Clara.
When they arrived at her house she turned to him, looking deep into his eyes. Then she pulled him slightly closer to her. Gilbert felt a compulsion to kiss her. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
He thought he wanted to kiss Clara, but it would be wrong to kiss Laura, “No.” He turned away, hesitated, then walked away, “See you tomorrow Laura.” She was disappointed, but not completely discouraged.
The next night Laura waited at the bench on the Main Street bridge. She waited until she was thinking of going home when Gilbert showed up, hanging his head.
Laura was sure Gilbert had a good reason for being late, “I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“Why?” she asked sadly.
“I don’t know for sure, but I would rather you were Clara.” Gilbert looked at her with compassion.
Laura was hurt, but understanding, “Clara is gone, you need to move on.”
“I know your right, but,” he shook his head, “I don’t know anything.”
“I understand.”
“Really?”
“No not really.”
“I thought I might try to be your friend by pretending you were, Clara.”
‘What?”
“I know that’s really bad. I wasn’t going to tell you but I thought it would be the honest thing to do.”
“I suppose,” She said sadly.
“Well, I guess I will go.”
“You should at least escort me home.”
“All right,” Gilbert said smiling.
As they walked Laura tried to get him to see her as her and not Clara. When they got close to her home, she turned to him. “Now close your eyes and kiss me like I am Clara.” He was hesitant, “It’s all right.” He closed his eyes and leaned forward to kiss her. They’re lips met slippery and wet. Gilbert quickly pulled back.
“I’m so sorry, Laura.”
“It is my fault. I better go.” She turned around and ran to her house.
In the spring of 1888, Mr. Williams sold all his interest in his butter and egg business to concentrate on breeding horses. Gilbert and Mr. Hussey thought it was more because he wanted to be close to his family. The horses were trotted daily for longer distances each time.
In the interest of promoting local participation Mr. Williams opened the track up to all townspeople for use of training or exercising their horses. One gentleman, Mr. McHenry, had several horses kept at Rush Park. He would not only work his horses, but also assisted with Mr. Williams horses.
During the vigorous training, Axtell had shown great trotting ability. He appeared to understand to trot harder when called upon. Axtell’s trot was natural, and pure, even with his crooked legs. On the other hand, Allerton showed less natural ability, but periodically he would have bursts of great speed. Axtell was more business like in his training. While Allerton was playful and less dedicated.
There was a man taking several mares to Nebraska to sell and Mr. Williams offered to sell Axtell to him for $300. The man turned down that offer, but offered him $275. Mr. Williams refused the counter offer. It surprised Gilbert and Mr. Hussey that he offered Axtell for sale.
On May 26, Mr. Williams hitched Axtell to a big-wheeled racing sulky. Gilbert always thought the sulky a funny-looking buggy. It is designed for racing trotting and pacing horses. A sulky looked different from a normal buggy. It was like sitting on two large thin buckboard wheels, attached to an axle with a small flat seat on the axle. It had two wood rails flanking the horse on each side. The driver would be seated directly behind the hind end of the horse.
Mr. Williams trotted Axtell around the half mile oval track three times clockwise and three times counter clockwise. Axtell showed speed and pride in his efforts not shown before. Mr. Williams told Gilbert, “I had to hold him back a bit.” He trotted Allerton, a few days later, with less favorable results.
Mr. Williams wanted to get the horses accustomed to traveling by train. So the following week Mr. Hussey and Gilbert took the two horses for a train ride to Waterloo on the Illinois Central Railroad. A week later they took them on a train ride to Dubuque. Gilbert had hoped to have time to find Clara, but they were scheduled to go back on the next train to Independence. He had continued to write to Clara with no response back, so he wasn’t sure if she even wanted to see him. These trips were the only times Gilbert had traveled any distance from Independence.
A month later Mr. Williams gathered several of his workers for a fine lunch at his home. Everyone there was anxious to find out what was on his mind. Before dinner was served, he gathered everyone’s attention. “Well, I believe we are ready to enter the horses in a race meeting. I want your thoughts, about this.”
Even though Gilbert was the youngest one in the group, he was the first to speak up. “We need to get started racing sometime,
might just as well be now. It would be good to see how they compare.”
Mr. Hussey added, “It would tell us what we need to work on.”
“An excellent test on our progress,” Mr. McHenry stated as the rest agreed.
Mr. Hussey spoke again, “Are you thinking Keokuk, Charles.”
“Yes, Keokuk,” He replied.
“They will have some of the fastest horses in the state.” Mr. Mc Henry added.
Mr. Williams nodded his head, “It is a good test as young Mr. Fenny has stated.”
Gilbert felt dignified being referred to as, Mr. Fenny, by Mr. Williams in front of his co-workers. His self-esteem doubled with this simple reference.
Mr. Hussey said, “The horses may get shied by the crowd. They have never raced in front of a large crowd.”
“Excellent point,” Mr. Williams said. A few days later two fine Frazier racing sulky’s from a maker in Aurora, Illinois arrived by train. Simulated races were conducted the following day, including many horses around the county. Family, friends and regular townspeople were encouraged to take part in the races.
After a successful fake races Mr. Williams was confident his horses would do well in Keokuk. He entered Axtell in the three-year-old’s race and Allerton in the two-year-old’s race. He felt both horses could win in those respective age groups. The Keokuk races were in early August and they quietly departed on the train early in the morning. Gilbert was excited to accompany them.
They arrived by train a day before the races began. Many of the other horse owners watched them as they brought the two horses into the stable area. It wasn’t because they were so impressed by the horses, it was because they were unknown to the racing circuit.
Axtell’s appearance, in the eyes of race enthusiasts the ungainly looking crooked hind legs, confused them. They overheard comments and quiet laughter as they passed. Once the horses were settled in their stalls, Gilbert went back through the stables to get a bucket of water. As he passed the last stall next to the water pump, he overheard a well dressed pretty blond woman ask a man, “The horse that went through a few moments ago. What was wrong with his back legs?”
A well dressed, proper middle aged man replied, “They are crooked.” Gilbert knew they were referring to Axtell.
“Can he race like that?” she asked the man.
“Must be able or they wouldn’t have entered him,” the man answered.
Gilbert saw a great variety of horses. Some were very handsome and strong. Some poorly groomed, but formidable looking anyway. He began to pump water into his bucket, when an owner close by spoke pompously to the woman. “I don’t see any horses here that will contend with the Senator.”
“Really,” the woman replied, “No horses at all?”
“I know most of the competition here, and we should win our races easily.”
“What about those horses you don’t know about?” The young lady asked.
“If I haven’t heard about them, They are either young, inexperienced and obviously be intimidated by the crowd.”
Gilbert without thought blurted out, “There is a horse from Independence that will do well.” He had spoken louder than he intended, which interrupted their conversation. The woman was receptive of the interruption by the bold young man, but the owner gave a stern angered look toward him. Gilbert was intimidated at first, but found himself bold and confident once again. He sported a confident smile that irritated the man. It was obvious to him that the man was trying to influence the woman for something.
The man replied, “That horse would have to trot 2:40 for three heats to even have a chance.” Then he continued in a nasty tone. “If he can’t do that, you may as well tell the owner to withdraw him now.”
The woman looked at Gilbert hoping for a reply. Gilbert had never confronted an older distinguished gentleman, but he did reply. “Well, if he does win, you sure will look silly won’t you.” The woman appeared to be politely amused by his comments. Gilbert felt it best to pick up his bucket of water and get it back to the stall. He could feel the man’s eyes gazing at him intently.
Both Axtell and Allerton ate oats and drank eagerly. Gilbert was softly brushing Allerton when a strong female voice behind him cut through the murmur in the barn. “Is this the horse you spoke of?”
Gilbert quickly turned and found himself facing the woman he had seen before. He was unable to compose himself enough to respond. Mr. Hussey and Mr. Williams, who were in the next stall with Axtell, found great interest in their conversation. They looked at each other, neither speaking. This woman had pale skin, pink cheeks, and a friendly bright white toothy smile.
Gilbert was able to choke out, “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is Allerton. He will be a great trotter someday, but the horse I was speaking of is in the next stall.” She glanced over to the next stall and caught the two gawking at her.
She smiled and nodded to them, “Gentlemen.” They nodded back, then turned away in embarrassment. She turned back to Gilbert, the two men both renewed their interest in their conversation. “I am Adell Timms. I’m a reporter from Minneapolis.” She smiled happily as she extended her hand first to Gilbert, then reaching over the rail to Mr. Hussey who was closest and finally to Mr. Williams. “I report on sporting events. Obviously, harness racing is the event of this day.”
A female sports reporter was a rarity, and the three men could not hide their awkward looks in regards to that fact. Miss Timms understood, finding it amusing.
Mr. Williams spoke first. “It is certainly a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m Charles W. Williams.”
Mr. Hussey quickly wanted to introduce himself, “Yes, it certainly is a pleasure, I’m Mr. Hussey, John Hussey,” he spoke up in a more dignified manner than usual.
“I am glad to meet you both.” She then turned back to Gilbert, “And what is the name of our bold, young gentleman here?” She looked to Gilbert for an answer.
Timidly he responded, “I’m Gilbert Fenny.” He looked at Mr. Williams, then stood up straight and proud, “Mr. Gilbert E. Fenny, Ma’am.”
She respected the bold, young gentleman, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fenny.” She stopped for a second and corrected her statement with a sweet smile, “Shall I refer to you as Mr. Fenny or Gilbert?”
Gilbert impressed himself, along with both Mr. Williams and Mr. Hussey, with the respect given him. “Gilbert will work, or Mr. Fenny will be fine, whatever you would prefer, ma’am.”
She smiled again, “So Mr. Fenny, why do you believe your horse can beat Senator Conkling?”
Mr Hussey and Mr. Williams looked from Miss Timms to Gilbert, anxious to hear the answer. Gilbert was caught dumbfounded, he had heard of Senator Conkling, but didn’t know much about him except his race times were solidly in the 2:40’s range.
“I believe Axtell will be intimidated at first, just as that fella said.” He looked over to Mr. Williams, who showed no reaction, then corrected himself, “Just as the gentleman said. But Axtell will recover and make a good showing in the next heats.” Both Mr. Hussey’s and Mr. Williams’s heads moved back to Miss Timms for the next question. She was a reporter, and certainly would want to know more about this bold prediction.
“Let me get the record straight. You believe the Senator will win his first heat, but will lose to your -- Axtell isn’t it?” Gilbert nodded, “in the next two heats, to win the race?” The two heads moved quickly back to Gilbert anxious for the reply.
Gilbert hadn’t really been thinking Axtell would win the heats, but after a few seconds said, “Yeah.” He confirmed is thought, “Yeah.”
“Where did you say you come from?”
“Independence,” he answered proudly.
“Independence, Missouri?”
“No ma’am, Independence, Iowa.”
She raised her eyebrows, “I have heard of Independence, I passed through on the railw
ay coming here.”
“It’s not a very big city.”
“What age is your horse?”
Mr. Williams intervened in the conversation. “Axtell is two years old and we will be in the three-year-old race.” He gestured to his other horse, “Allerton is two years old and will be in the two-year-old race.
“What other horses have you had in the past?”
Gilbert looked to Mr. Williams who nodded for him to answer. “These are the first two horses we have raised. We’re just getting started.”
“You have very bold expectations for your first horses. Do you mind if I have a look at Axtell, Mr. Fenny?” She asked, bypassing the owner.
Gilbert once again looked to Mr. Williams who nodded quickly an affirmative response. Then he replied, “Sure.”
It was apparent to them that she knew horses. “He sure is a handsome horse.” She walked around him rubbing his legs and withers. “Who’s his sire?”
“William L,” Mr. Hussey spoke up.
“William L,” she said, “wasn’t he sired by George Wilkes.”
“Why yes,” Mr. Hussey answered impressed of her knowledge. “Lady Bunker was his dam,” Referring to William L.’s dam, “Lou from Mambrino Bay was Axtell’s dam.”
Miss Timms looked at him, “The dam doesn’t count for much, does she?”
“On the contrary,” Mr Williams joined in, “I believe the dam is very important in breeding. Maybe just as important, in breeding, as the sire.”
“Well, we will see how your horses do and maybe I will have something to write about.” She said, “It was very nice meeting you all. I do wish you luck.” She turned back to Gilbert, “I really want you to win just as you predict, Mr. Fenny. I would love to see the owner of Senator Conkling, when he loses.” She smiled, “I hope to see you all later.”
After she left, Mr. Williams and Mr. Hussey turned to Gilbert. Mr. Hussey asked, “What was that all about?”
“There was a fella,” he stopped and quickly corrected himself, “a gentleman, talking about his horse being better than all others. I simply mentioned that there was a horse from Independence that would do well.” Gilbert suddenly quit talking, knowing he would drive the two men crazy with curiosity, and went back to brushing Allerton. The men waited for a few seconds hoping he would finish the story.
Allerton and Axtell Page 11