. You don't
even have to risk your own money. I've made a slough of it betting on
things that weren't lead pipe cinches like this. I made on Fidgety
Midget at fifty to one. I made on Gosham at eight to one. Nobody told me
how to bet on 'em. I know a horse--that's all! You stay in the Garden; I
take one of the grays; I bring her back in six months with more coin
than she can pack, and we split it fifty-fifty. You furnish the horse. I
furnish the jack. Is it a go?"

A bird stopped above them, whistled and dipped away over the treetops.
David turned his head to follow the trailing song, and Connor realized
with a sick heart that he had failed to sweep his man off his feet.

"Would you have me take charity?" asked David at length.

It seemed to Connor that there was a smile behind this. He himself burst
into a roar of laughter.

"Sure, it sounds like charity. They'll be making you a gift right
enough. There isn't a horse on the turf that has a chance with one of
the grays! But they'll bet their money like fools."

"Would it not be a sin, then?"

"What sin?" asked Connor roughly. "Don't they grab the coin of other
people? Does the bookie ask you how much coin you have and if you can
afford to lose it? No, he's out to get all that he can grab. And we'll
go out and do some grabbing in turn. Oh, they'll squeal when we turn the
screw, but they'll kick through with the jack. No fear, Davie!"

"Whatever sins may be theirs, Benjamin, those sins need not be mine."

Connor was dumb.

"Because they are foolish," said David, "should I take advantage of
their folly? A new man comes into the valley. He sees Jurith, and
notices that she runs well in spite of her years. He says to me: 'This
mare will run faster than your stallion. I have money and this ring
upon my finger which I will risk against one dollar of your money; If
the mare beats Glani I take your dollar. If Glani beats the mare, you
take my purse and my ring; I have no other wealth. It will ruin me, but
I am willing to be ruined if Jurith is not faster than Glani.

"Suppose such foolish man were to come to me, Benjamin, would I not say
to him: 'No, my friend. For I understand better than you, both Jurith
and Glani!' Tell me therefore, Benjamin, that you have tempted me toward
a sin, unknowing."

It made Connor think of the stubbornness of a woman, or of a priest. It
was a quiet assurance which could only be paralleled from a basis of
religion or instinct. He knew t