e Dutchman, feeling this made him more secure. He
would either win a considerable stake or have sufficient in hand to
cover up his defalcation. The first thing to do was to find the note if
possible. Faust would be the man for this commission.

Immediately upon his arrival in New York, Crane telephoned for Faust,
asking him to bring his betting sheet for the second last day of the
Brooklyn Meet. When Faust arrived at Crane's quarters the latter said,
"I want to trace a thousand-dollar note, number B 67,483. I think it was
betted on the Brooklyn Derby, probably on my horse."

Faust consulted his betting sheet, Crane looking over his shoulder. "I
didn't have no thousand in one bet on that race," he said.

"What are those flgures," asked the other, pointing to two consecutive
numbers of one thousand each.

"That was the other way about," answered the Bookmaker; "that was pay.
A thousand to one hundred twice over Lauzanne. I think it must have been
stable money, for one of the guys was like a big kid; he didn't know
'nough to pick a winner in a thousand years."

The coincidence of this amount with the win attributed to Mortimer,
appealed to Crane's fancy. "You remember the man who made this bet,
then?" he asked.

"Yes, sure thing. There was two of 'em, as you see. I remember him
because it took some explainin' to get the bet through his noddle. He
was a soft mark for a bunco steerer. I've seen some fresh kids playin'
the horses, but he had 'em all beat to a standstill. It must abeen
first-time luck with him, for he cashed."

"Can you describe him?"

The Cherub drew an ornate verbal picture, florid in its descriptive
phraseology, but cognate enough to convince Crane it was Mortimer who
had made one of the bets. His preconceived plan of the suspected man's
operations was working out.

"Now find this thousand-dollar note for me," he said; "take trouble over
it; get help if necessary; go to every bookmaker that was in line that
day. If you find the note, exchange other money for it and bring it to
me."

"There may be a chance," commented Faust, scratching his fat poll
meditatively; "the fellows like to keep these big bills, they're
easier in the pocket than a whole bundle of flimsies. The next day was
getaway-day, an' they wouldn't be payin' out much. I'll make a play fer
it."

The next afternoon Faust reported at Crane's rooms with the rescued
note in his possession. He had been successful. "I give a dozen of 'em