anything happens Lucretia we
can start Lauzanne."

The Trainer laughed in good-natured derision. "That wouldn't do much
good; we'd be out of the frying pan into the fire; we'd be just that
much more money out for jockey an' startin' fees; he'd oughter been
struck out on the first of January to save fifty dollars, but I guess
you all had your troubles about that time an' wasn't thinkin' of
declarations."

"It may have been luck; if Lauzanne would only try, something tells me
he'd win," contended the girl.

"And somethin' tells me he wouldn't try a yard," answered Dixon, in
good-humored opposition. "But I don't think it'll make no difference in
the odds we get whether we back the stable or Lucretia alone; they won't
take no stock in the Chestnut's prospects."

So Dixon made a little pilgrimage among the pencilers. He was somewhat
dismayed and greatly astonished that these gentry also had a somewhat
rosy opinion of Lucretia's chances. Her good gallop in the Brooklyn
Handicap had been observed by other eyes than Crane's. Ten to one was
the best offer he could get.

Dixon was remonstrating with a bookmaker, Ulmer, when the latter
answered, "Ten's the best I'll lay--I'd rather take it myself; in fact,
I have backed your mare because I think she's got a great chance; she'll
be at fours race day. But I'll give you a tip--it's my game to see the
owner's money on," and he winked at the Trainer as much as to say, "I'll
feel happier about it if we're both in the same boat."

"It'll be on, sure thing, if I can get a decent price."

"Well, you go to Cherub Faust; he'll lay you longer odds. I put my bit
on with him at twelve, see? If I didn't know that you an' Porter was
always on the straight I'd a-thought there was somethin' doin', an'
Faust was next it, stretchin' the odds that way. How's the mare doin--is
she none the worse?" Ullmer asked, a suspicious thought crossing his
mind.

"We're backin' her--an' money talks," said Dixon, with quiet assurance.

"Well, Faust is wise to somethin'--he stands in with Langdon, an' I
suppose they think they've got a cinch in The Dutchman. Yes, that must
be it," he added, reflectively; "they made a killin' over Diablo, an'
likely they got a good line on The Dutchman through him in a trial.
But a three-year-old mare that runs as prominent in the big Handicap
as Lucretia did, will take a lot of beatin. She's good enough for my
money."

Thanking him, Dixon found Faust, and asked of him