He was
riding Panchito and his outfit was the last word in Mexican
magnificence. His saddle had cost him not a _real_ less than five
hundred dollars gold; his silver spurs could have been pawned in any
Tia Juana loan office for twenty-five dollars and many a longing glance
was cast on a magnificent bridle that would have cost any bricklayer a
month's pay. Panchito, a splendid big chestnut with two white
stockings and a blazed face, was gray with sweat and alkali dust and
shod like a plow horse. He wore cactus burrs in his tail and mane and
had evidently traveled far.
His rider claimed to have been on the road a week, and his soiled
clothing and unshaven face gave ample testimony of that fact. He was
arrayed in the traditional costume of the Mexican ranchero of means and
spoke nothing but Spanish, despite which handicap the racing secretary
gleaned that his name was Don Miguel Jose Maria Federico Noriaga
Farrelle. Following Don Miguel came Sancho Panza, Junior, a stringy
Indian youth of fourteen summers, mounted on an ancient flea-bitten
mule. The food and clothing of these two adventurers were carried
behind them on their saddles.
An interpreter informed the secretary that Don Miguel was desirous of
entering his horse, Panchito, in the Thanksgiving Handicap. The
horse's registration papers being in order, the entry was accepted, Don
Quixote and Sancho Panza, Junior, were each given a badge, and a stall
was assigned to Panchito.
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