CHAPTER 25The limousine drew up at a brown dirt oval—a cooling-out ring. Beyond, the wide-open, hip-roofed bam exhaled into the shadowy dusk an agreeable smell of hay and horse. A trio of coveralled n*****s squatted on upturned feed tubs; on the dirt before them a portable radio blatted:
“…crossed up faithful followers of the orange and violet by a last minute substitution of Sonny Kupchek for its top banana, Hay-Hay Greld, in the rich Phoenix Stakes. Sonny did his best, no doubt, but compared to the tough little jock they call ‘The Most,’ Sonny sat very small in the saddle as the Old Plantation entry finished a bad, sad fifth. Now the question is—”
One of the grooms turned down the volume as Don got out.
The question, Don repeated to himself, is why Charlie Daw sent Sibyl to the horse
