Long Shot

Take one man trapped in the bitterness of the past. Put him face to face with the future and the flying turf of the racetrack. That's our story. Long shot. Taken from the files of John Steele. Adventurer!

Oh friend, this is John Steele. If you like stories of suspense and action, sit down. You've come to the right place.

Have you ever had 1400 pounds of thundering horse flesh straining at your hands? Well stick around, you will. Because this week's story concerns one of the oldest and most exciting sports, horse racing. And here to tell it is the man that happened to, Dink Williams.

Supposing we let him carry on from here, hmm? Dink? You see, when you're a little guy like me, you learn early, you gotta do a lot of back and off. If you don't, you get your face pushed in.

At first you keep hoping it's Sunday, you're gonna get big. You're waiting, you're waiting, nothing happens. So then you learn to take care of yourself. When a big guy is yelling, you say I heard you, and you let it go like that.

call it that. At least that's the way it was with me. I guess it all started out day down in Florida. I'd been jock over about ten years and I was good. Worked my way up the contract ladder for Blue Meadow Farms and I was running my share. I was up on the favorite reliance and Eddie Breda was riding a long shot that everyone said

was due. It was a sixth race, climbing for four year olds at a mile in 16th. The rest of the jocks have been giving me a bad time and I was sore. I was slow coming out of the shoot and didn't catch a pack till the first turn. The track was wet and I was