(See Cover)
The little man slouched in the saddle, round-shouldered and solemn, like a cowboy after a long day. He seemed oblivious of the crowd, but it was just a mannerism: he knew full well that all eyes were on him. And he knew too that the mere sight of Jockey Eddie Arcaro is enough to make hundreds of red-blooded New York horse-players boo.
But this time it was different. As Jockey Arcaro (rhymes with sparrow) paraded to the post last week in the first race at Jamaica,'applause pattered...
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