Snorting and growling, Grandpa said, “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere till I see the gold cup handed to this boy.”
Turning to face the crowd, Dr. Lathman said, “Men, let’s get this over. I want to get this man to town.
That’s one of the meanest sprains I’ve ever seen and it should be in a cast, but I don’t have any plaster of Paris with me.”
The hunter who had come by our tent collecting the jackpot money came up to me.
Handing me the box, he said, “Here you are, son. There’s over three hundred dollars in this box. It’s all yours.”
Turning to the crowd, he said, “Fellows, I can always say this. On this hunt I’ve seen two of the finest little coon hounds I ever hope to see.”
There was a roar of approval from the crowd. Looking down, I saw the box was almost full of money.
I was shaking all over. I tried to say “Thanks,” but it was only a whisper.
Turning, I handed the box to my father. As his rough old hands closed around it, I saw a strange look come over his face.
He turned and looked at my dogs. Some of the men started shouting, “Here it is!” The crowd parted and the judge walked through.
I saw the gleaming metal of the gold cup in his hand.
After a short speech, he handed it to me, saying, “Son, this makes me very proud. It’s a great honor to present you with this championship cup.”
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