"He won." "The Frisco bunch is challengin' him for a professional," Billy elucidated.

"That's what they're all beefin' about.

But it ain't right.
They all ran for that money, so they're all professional." The crowd surged and argued and roared in front of the judges' stand.
The stand was a rickety, two-story affair, the second story open at the front, and here the judges could be seen debating as heatedly as the crowd beneath them.
"There she starts!" Bert cried.

"Oh, you rough-house!" The black-haired racer, backed by a dozen supporters, was climbing the outside stairs to the judges.
"The purse-holder's his friend," Billy said.

"See, he's paid him, an' some of the judges is willin' an' some are beefin'.