ugh. Wish
I'd never bucked ag'in' de bookies."

"Why don't you stop it now, then?"

"Say, pard, do you drink?"

"No."

"Smoke?"

"No."

A hopeless air of utter defeat came into the thin, sharp face. Its
owner had been searching for a simile. He wanted to point a moral and
he couldn't find it. The young man at his elbow was too immaculate.
He tried to explain: "Racin's like any other locoed t'ing--it's like
tobacco, or drink, or stealin' money out of a bank--"

Mortimer shivered. He had felt a moral superiority in denying the
implied bad habits.

"It's like any of 'em," continued the ragged philosopher; "a guy
starts simply as a kid, an' he gets de t'row-down. He takes a bracer at
himself, and swears he'll give it de go-by, but he can't--not on your
life."

Mortimer had read much about confidence men, and half expected that
his self-imposed acquaintance would try to borrow money, but he was
disillusionized presently.

"But de ring ain't broke Ole Bill yet. I'll clean up a t'ousand
to-day--say, I like your mug; you ain't no stiff, or I miss my guess,
an' I'll put you, next a good t'ing, damme if I don't, an' you don't
need to divvy up, neither. Dere's a chestnut runnin' in de Derby what
dey call Larcen, an' I'm goin' to plank down a hun'red chicks on him."

He detected a look of incredulous unbelief in Mortimer's face,
evidently, for he added, "You t'ink I ain't got no dough, eh?" He dug
down into the folds of his somewhat voluminous "pants" and drew forth a
fair-sized roll. "See? That wad goes to Larcen straight. I see him do
a gallop good enough for my stuf; but dey got a stable-boy on him, an'
dat's why he'll be ten to one. But dat don't cut no ice wit' me. He'll
be out for de goods; it's a gal owns him, an' dere'll be nut'in' doin'.
Gal's name's Porter."

Again Mortimer started. What a little world it was, to be sure! Even
here on the ferry boat, crowded with men of unchristian aspect, he heard
the name of the woman he loved, and standing symbolical of honesty.

"What's the name of this--this horse?" he asked.

"Larcen."

"Do you mean Lauzanne?"

"Yes, dat's it. I jes' heered it, an' I t'ought it was Larcen. You've
got it straight, stranger. Say, are you wise to anyt'in'?"

"Not about the horse; but I know the people--the young lady; and they'll
win if they can--that's sure."

"Dere won't be many dead 'uns in de Derby. First money's good enough fer
most of de owners. First horse, I see him ga