Allerton and Axtell

by Gary Lee Martinson

  “Murray was just starting to tell me a story when, you two came in.” Miss Timms said. “Would you like to tell us the rest of the story.”

  “Sure,” Murray said. “Well, a court judge from Waterloo, wired inquiring about the district court judge voting turnout in Buchanan County. The receiver of the wire misunderstood his inquiry and gave him the names of judges that were working the races at Rush Park instead.” The four of them laughed again.

  The waitress serving them was once Clara’s arch enemy when she lived in Independence, as a child. They were very cordial to each another, and all grudges seemed to have diminished over the years. She encouraged Gilbert to give a gracious tip when they left.

  Miss Timms had refrained from asking Gilbert any questions, but couldn’t resist asking in a very concerned manner, “How is Allerton looking, after his injury in Davenport?”

  Gilbert was expecting several people to ask him how Allerton was. They had not worked him since the injury, and even if the injury healed completely, Allerton would not be able to be conditioned enough to be as competitive. However, Mr. Williams had plans to work Allerton privately, to see where he was physically, once the races had concluded. He also knew Mr. Williams often achieved great things. So maybe Allerton could be rehabilitated enough to race again. Mr. Williams had announced that Allerton would not do any traveling in the future. He wanted him to stay in Independence with the safe elastic turf. Gilbert personally expressed to Mr. Williams that Allerton should retire while he is on top, if a full gainful recovery could not be achieved.

  Knowing all that, his response was, “He has a long recovery to make before he will be back.” He then changed the subject quickly indicating to Miss Timms that he would not say anything further. “What do you think of Nancy Hanks’s chances today?”

  “The conditions are excellent,” she spoke, “You have the fast track, no wind to speak of, she will be pulling the new pneumatic wheeled sulky. And I hear she is in great condition, according to Mr. Doble. How do you feel she’ll do?”

  He chuckled, “With Mr. Doble driving, two thoroughbreds to push her and the fact she is by far the fastest horse ever foaled. That can only add up to a, yes.” He paused, “I saw her yesterday morning in a workout, and she looks the best I have ever seen. It will be a treat to watch her today.”

  “Any truth to the rumor that Allerton and Nancy Hanks will breed twice, one foal for each owner?” Miss Timms asked.

  Gilbert smiled broadly, “You just made that up,” Gilbert joked with her. “You know it couldn’t be true, because they wouldn’t be able to agree on who gets the first foal.” The four of them laughed once again, turning a few heads their way.

  Mr. Stafford broke his silence when things settled down, “Did you hear the poem recited at the opera house last night?” He took a breath as everyone at the table toned in to hear what he had to say. “Some men invest their money, some stow it in the banks, but I have found a safer place; I bet on Nancy Hanks.” Everyone within ear shot of the reporter’s words laughed and agreed whole heartedly.

  When they finished their breakfast Gilbert left a two- dollar tip on the table. Clara glared at him, like he had done wrong, “What?”

  “I said, leave a good tip. You don’t have to give her the farm.”

  He was a bit lost as to what he should have done, “Be more specific next time when you order me around.”

  “You have never tipped me like that.”

  “I know. I didn’t want anyone to think I liked you.”

  “A waitress never asks for a tip. A gentleman should just be willing to give what he feels is appropriate for the service he receives.” Clara said as if Gilbert should have known.

  “Well, then she gave great service,” he added, “a whole two dollars’ worth.”

  “Apparently much better service than I give.” She said coldly.

  “Are you really serious?”

  “No, I love you just the same as always.” She smiled, “I would like to see better tips from you in the future. I have to have spending money when I go to college.”

  Before leaving the hotel Gilbert stopped at the counter on the north side of the lobby. He looked through the glass case at the many items for sale, there was a variety of cigars and chewing tobacco, candies, and mints. Gilbert bought a small bag of hard peppermint candies they could have throughout the day. He wanted to be able to freshen up his breath, if the occasion came up to kiss Clara.

  They strolled around the downtown area, going into various shops. Clara pointed out a round medallion with a small red ruby on the upper crest of it and a horse head engraved on the medallion. The horse engraved on the medallion was labeled Axtell. There was another one just like it with the name Allerton etched on it. The girl watching the counter at the time was Laura Willard. She came over to them, “Hi, Gilbert,” she said, “see anything you like?”

  Gilbert’s heart raced a bit, “Hi, Laura.” He found himself a bit uncomfortable. “I can’t read the price on that medallion with the ruby.”

  “It is,” she turned the price tag around to read it better, “six dollars.” She grinned and spoke quietly, “It’s not really a ruby, just glass. The medallion is real silver, though.”

  “I’ll take one of each of those.”

  “Oh, big spender,” she glanced toward Clara. “How have you been Clara?”

  “I am fine, thank you,” Clara said apprehensively.

  “I have heard about you from Naome Soener.” Laura said, “Good things I might add.” She grabbed the medallions and placed them on top of the case. “Do you want me to bag them or will you wear them?” She asked as Gilbert reached into one of his pockets to get out a small wad of bills.

  He handed her two ten-dollar bills, “We’ll wear them, thank you Laura.”

  “Two sawbuck’s, I’ll get your change.” She went to a box behind another counter. She returned. “Did Katie tell you about the party we are having at the big tree.”

  “No, I hadn’t heard,” Clara replied feeling put out that she hadn’t.

  “You should come. Gilbert, you know where it is don’t you?” Laura said. “It will be from eight until whenever. They plan to have a bonfire and everything,” she said with a giggle. I will be with Adam Hendrix.”

  “We might do that.” Gilbert said.

  Laura looked at Gilbert hoping to see some sign of jealousy. He showed no emotion. As they were exiting, she yelled out after them, “Oh, Thank you.”

  The two walked around for another hour, just enjoying each others company. They enjoyed their time together just talking about anything without any obligations or worries. Time seemed to fly by for them. The races wouldn’t be starting for a few hours, so they decided they would go to Fairview Park for their midday meal. Fairview Park was just west of Rush Park.

  There was a barbeque pit there with a half calf cooking. The man cooking it, had cooked calves during the Fourth of July festivities for years and had a reputation for a tasty sauce developed by a local farmer.

  They decided to walk out to the track instead of riding the overflowing trolley. There was a trailer car added to some of the trolleys to handle the people. As they walked they were passed by a packed trolley clanging by every few minutes. Some men would get on and off as the trolley moved along. The ladies would always wait for it to stop properly before boarding or disembarking.

  It remained mostly cloudy all morning, but the temperature had risen to make it a bit uncomfortable. They walked along, noticing smell after smell of cooking foods of all kinds. Kettles were over fires cooking potatoes or corn on the cob. The walk along the board walk was nearly impossible because of the amount of people crammed on it. Luckily the flow was generally in the direction of the track.

  The trolleys were full going out to the Rush Park and nearly always empty coming back to town as race time approached. When they arrived at Fairview
Park, there was a line of people waiting to get a share of the beef. Of the hundreds of people at Fairview Park the majority of them were more locals. Fairview Park wasn’t on the main traffic areas, so fewer out of towner’s knew about it. They didn’t have to wait to long for a steel plate full of beef and boiled potatoes. They assisted the providers of the meal by cleaning their plates thoroughly for others to use in large wash tubs. It wasn’t required, but locals would do this out of courtesy to each other.

  As they approached Rush Park Gilbert noticed the grounds were filled with people. “We may not get a great seat after all.”

  “Gilbert,” Clara said calmly, “I’m sure there will be a place for the two of us.”

  They arrived at the gate and Gilbert paid the two dollars for their admittance. They strolled toward the stands that had plenty of seating for them. As they were about to enter the amphitheater, a male voice rang out.

  “Gilbert!”

  The couple turned in the direction of the voice and Mr. Martin, Mr. Williams business manager, approached them. “Gilbert, I know you have the day off and everything, but could I get you to help these ladies find a good spot in the amphitheater for the inmates from the state asylum, please?”

  “Sure,” he replied without hesitation.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Martin said with great relief. “Mr. Williams wants them to get a good place all together. They are walking around the barns toward the entry gate. Here is a note from Mr. Williams to allow them in at no charge.” Mr. Martin sped off.

  Gilbert and Clara went back to the main entry gate, and when the patients arrived with their escorts, Gilbert interceded to inform the gate keepers to allow them in. They walked ahead of the group of patients who appeared to be very excited about getting in to the races. Mr. Williams has worked with the state hospital for the insane, in Independence, to allow many patients to attend the races at Rush Park.

  Gilbert led them to the upper back rows at the south end of the amphitheater. He asked several people, who were cooperative, if they would move down a bit. Clara and Gilbert decided to sit next to the group of patients.

  Clara had grabbed a printed program for the races scheduled that day. The two studied the races, and between them, they made predictions of who they thought would win. Clara claimed it wasn’t fair because Gilbert has experience with the horses.

  They befriended several of the patients and one in particular, who was very friendly and impressed with Gilbert and Clara. Gilbert went down and got several programs for the patients and explained to them how to read and analyze the program. They appreciated the explanation and had more interest because of it. The stands and grounds were packed with more people then Gilbert ever remembered being there before. He thought there were thousands more than the 25,000 people attending the race between Nancy Hanks and Allerton.

  Things went smoothly through the day, except there was a fight that occurred a few rows in front of them. There was a group of Englishmen sitting a row in front of several well-dressed ladies. The Englishmen had a tendency to stand during the races, blocking the view of the ladies behind them. When one of the ladies kindly asked them to sit down, one Englishmen informed her. “My friends and I have come all the way from England to see the bloody races. If we have to stand so be it.”

  A man from Hazleton, informed the gentlemen from England, “You should be gentlemen and heed the request of the lady.”

  The English gentleman said, “You should have taken a bath, you smell like a pig from Wales.” It appeared that he was going to say more, but his mouth was suddenly full of a fist and he flew two rows down the stands.

  The rest of the English gentlemen began to make a move toward the man from Hazleton, but several security men were on the spot quickly to break up the brawl.

  “Those English blokes were lucky security broke up the fight,” Gilbert chuckled in Clara’s ear.

  Clara was doing better than Gilbert in picking winners of the races, however, she felt Gilbert wasn’t picking to the best of his ability. He convinced her otherwise and praised her ability to judge the horses. Gilbert, Clara and two of the attendants for the patients went to get the patients food. Clara talked her boss into sending a few helpers from the booth to assist taking food to them.

  When the final race of the day was run, the crowd stirred with anticipation of Nancy Hanks attempt to set a new trotting record. She was led through the side gate between the stables by her driver Bud Doble and attendants. You could hear cheers from that area of the park grow as people became aware of her entrance.

  When she came into view of the people in the stands, everyone stood up and cheered. The crowd was pulling for her to set the record for the fastest mile ever trotted. Charles W. Williams followed behind her with his old thoroughbred runner Ned Gordon. Following him was George Starr riding Abe Lincoln. The two running thoroughbreds were to start behind Nancy Hanks to push her hard for the record.

  Budd Doble climbed on the new pneumatic wheeled sulky and started Nancy Hanks on a pure gait jog that was beautiful. She jogged in front of the stands showing her confidence and pleasure.

  “My God,” Gilbert blurted out with tears filling his eyes. “She’s going to do it. She looks so good.” Clara clutched onto his arm and squeezed it hard. The runners stayed behind as Doble started her around the small loop of the track hoping to get the word on the first pass.

  As he drove her around the loop the entire crowd stood on their toes to get the best view possible. The judges wanted to be fair and felt she hadn’t gotten the best start. Doble turned her around to try again. The crowd went back on their heels for a moment as she trotted around the small end one more time.

  The word was given for a start this time and many watches started timing her gallant attempt. The pounding of the running horses’s hooves encouraged Nancy Hanks from the start. The pace was strong, true and proud. The men standing at the quarter held up the numbers thirty, shortly after she had passed them.

  “Thirty seconds,” Gilbert screamed as loud as he could, but was not be heard by anyone because the cheers from the entire crowd.

  The running horses lay back at her wheels as they started the long turn. At the half mile mark the numbers went up, ‘1:10’. Gilbert couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t be that slow. Then the men holding the numbers quickly corrected it to, ‘1:01’.

  “Incredible, that’s nearly a two minute gait!” Gilbert yelled unheard once again. “She could just jog the rest of the mile and still set the record.” He thought, Nancy Hanks would typically trot her best at the end and at this pace could certainly do it under two minutes. The crowd could sense it as well, as their cheers even got louder.

  As she rounded the last of the long sweeping turn you could see George Starr and Mr. Williams screaming and pushing their thoroughbreds harder after the speedy Nancy Hanks. She was on the verge of being taken by the thoroughbreds as they passed the three quarter mark at ‘1:34’. But her pride in herself would not allow a horse to head her at any time for any reason. Budd Doble urged his mare to push herself, and she responded with determination and spirit.

  Gilbert screamed in Clara’s ear, “I don’t think they could take her now if they tried!” He was referring to the thoroughbreds running along. Nancy Hanks pulled away from the runners with a longer stride in her gait. It was pure bedlam as she passed the wire swiftly. Everyone knew she had broken the record; it was just a question of what the new record was.

  The judges consulted briefly and put up the time of ‘2:05 1/4’. The crowd screamed with delight, women fainted and men wept with excitement. She had broken the record by an amazing three full seconds.

  Budd Doble trotted her around the small end of the track a few times as security people tried to keep the spectators off the track. The mob did not get unruly. The people who were still in town could hear the cheers and through modern telecommunications, they heard the news. Nancy Hanks
is the unofficial, ‘King and Queen of the Turf’.

  The crowd stayed to cheer for several minutes. It took hours after the races to disperse the crowd from the park. The trolley ran overfull transporting people back to town. The majority of people walked toward town and so did Clara and Gilbert after they assisted the patients into wagons to take them back to the hospital.

  They arrived at the Gedney Hotel for dinner, once again a line had formed out into the street through the north door. They did not get plucked out of the line, like they had that morning. Gilbert had tried to get reservations for the dining room, but it was strictly first come, first serve.

  After two hours of waiting, they finally got a table they agreed to share with another couple, from Chicago, they had been in line with. Warren and Mildred Greene. They had a nice conversation, that was dominated by the couple from Chicago. They decided to go together to the new opera house for the late show that started at 10:00 p.m. They were going to see the play, ‘Bohemian Girl’.

  For whatever reason the waitress brought only one check to their table. Gilbert felt for his money as he picked up the check. He looked at it and realized it was a note not a check. He read in silence.

  Gilbert,

  I have paid the check for you

  and your friends at the table.

  Williams

  “Let me get that,” Warren reached for the check.

  “It won’t be necessary,” Gilbert said.

  Warren leaned over for a glimpse of the note, “That isn’t Charles Williams, is it?”

  “Yes it is,” Gilbert would rather have paid the bill himself.

  “Do you know him?” Warren asked.

  The questions about the horses and Mr. Williams never ceased the rest of the night. Gilbert ended up telling everything about the two great horses. They asked a lot about Mr. Williams, but Gilbert was reluctant to say much about him.

  They ceased asking questions as they took in the impressive elegance of the opera house. They had seats in the front row of the balcony. The opera house was full of people who had paid a dollar to get in. He could tell from most of the crowd of people they were impressed with the surroundings. Just before the performance began, he saw Randall Wallace in a black formal outfit, turning down the house lights one by one. He was amused because he had only ever seen him dressed in tattered farming britches, suspenders and a straw hat.