e thousand he must keep intact. He had a few loose
dollars in his pocket beyond his original hundred, quite sufficient
to take him back to Brookfield. Taking the hundred from his pocket and
turning to Old Bill, who was still with him, he said: "I'm going
home, I've had enough horse racing for one day; you've done me a great
kindness--will you take this hundred--I need the thousand badly, so
can't spare more than this."

"Not on yer life, pard. I give you de tip first, but you got de office
straight from Irish, an' we're quits, see? I wasn't playin' you fer
a sucker, an' yer straight goods. Jes' shove de boodle in yer breast
pocket, an' don't show it to no one. Dere's some here as would take it
off you quick enough."

"But--"

"Dere ain't no buts in dis game--it's a straight deal, an' we've split
even. If you'd been a crook, well, God knows how we'd a-panned out. But
you ain't no geezer of dat sort--yer square, an' Old Bill wishes you
good luck till de robins nest again. Yer goin', eh? Say, pard, I'd
a-been wearin' diamon's if I could quit when I was 'head of de game. Yer
dead onto it. Here's my hand, Mr. Morton."

"Mortimer--George Mortimer."

"Well, shake, George. Where do you hang out?"

"Brookfield."

"My address is New York. Dat's as close a fit as I knows at present.
If de run o' luck keeps up p'r'aps I'll write you from de Waldorf.
Good-bye, of man."

With a light heart Mortimer hastened from Gravesend, not waiting for
the other races, and took his way to Brookfield. A genuine admiration of
buffeted Old Bill filled his mind.

In the morning he would be at the bank bright and early, and replace the
stolen thousand dollars; nobody would know that it had been taken. The
narrow escape that had come to Alan Porter might prove his salvation.
Surely it would cure him of his desire to bet. Out of all this evil
positive good would accrue.

XXXVIII

After winning on Lauzanne Allis had dodged the admiring crowd of paddock
regulars that followed her. As Lauzanne was being blanketed she had
kissed the horse's cheek and given him a mighty squeeze of thankfulness.
How nobly he had done his part; good, dear old despised, misjudged
Lauzanne. He had veritably saved her father from disaster; had saved her
from--from many things.

She had slipped into her long coat and stood waiting for Mike to drive
her to Dixon's cottage when the rumor came of an objection. Then there
had been the misery of terrible suspens