ish that left the staggering
Ghost five lengths behind and incidentally lowered the track record
for one mile.

It was a very popular victory, as was attested by the leaping,
howling dervishes in the grand stand and on the lawn, but there were
some who took no part in the demonstration. Some, like Con Parker,
were hit hard.

There was one who was hit hardest of all, a youth of pleasing
appearance who drew several pasteboards from his pocket and scowled
at them for a moment before he ripped them to bits and hurled the
fragments into the air.

"Cleaned out! Busted!" ejaculated the Bald-faced Kid bitterly. "The
old scoundrel double-crossed me!"

The last race of the meeting was over when Old Man Curry emerged from
the track office of the Rating Association. The grand stand was
empty, and the exits were jammed with a hurrying crowd. The betting
ring still held its quota, and the cashiers were paying off the lines
with all possible speed. As they slapped the winning tickets upon the
spindles, they exchanged pleasantries with the fortunate holders.

"Just keep this till we come back again next season," said they.
"We're lending it to you--that's all."

Old Man Curry made one brisk circle of the ring, examining every line
of ticket holders, then he walked out on the lawn. The Bald-faced Kid
was sitting on the steps of the grand stand smoking a cigarette.
Curry went over to him. "Well, Frank," said he cheerfully, "how did
you come out on the day?"

The boy stared up at him for a moment before he spoke.

"You ought to know," said he slowly. "You told me to bet on that grey
horse--and then you went out and beat him to death!"

"Ah, hah!" said the old man.

"I was crazy for a minute," said the Kid. "I thought you'd
double-crossed me. I've cooled out since then; now I'm only sorry
that you didn't know more about what your own horse could do. That
tip made a tramp out of me, old-timer."

"Exackly what I hoped it would do, son," and Old Man Curry fairly
beamed.

"_What's that?_" The cigarette fell from the Kid's fingers, and his
lower jaw sagged. "You thought Elisha could _win_--and you went and
touted me on to the other one?"

Old Man Curry nodded, smiling.

As the boy watched him, his expression changed to one of deep
disgust. He dipped into his vest pocket and produced his silver stop
watch. "Here's something you overlooked," he sneered. "Take it, and
I'll be cleaned right!"

Old Man Curry sat down beside him