and!" "Raceland!" "Raceland by a length!" shouted the crowd.

"Who's second?" a fat man shouted at another fat man.

"Firefly," called back the second, joyously, "and I've got her for a
place and I win eight dollars."

"Ah!" said Van Bibber, as he slipped his one hundred dollars back in
his pocket, "good thing I got here a bit late."

"What'd you win, Van Bibber?" asked a friend who rushed past him,
clutching his tickets as though they were precious stones.

"I win one hundred dollars," answered Van Bibber, calmly, as he walked
on up into the boxes. It was delightfully cool up there, and to his
satisfaction and surprise he found several people there whom he knew.
He went into Her box and accepted some _pate_ sandwiches and iced
champagne, and chatted and laughed with Her so industriously, and so
much to the exclusion of all else, that the horses were at the
starting-post before he was aware of it, and he had to excuse himself
hurriedly and run to put up his money on Bugler, the second on his
list. He decided that as he had won one hundred dollars on the first
race he could afford to plunge on this one, so he counted out fifty
more, and putting this with the original one hundred dollars, crowded
into the betting-ring and said, "A hundred and fifty on Bugler
straight."

"Bugler's just been scratched," said the bookie, leaning over Van
Bibber's shoulder for a greasy five-dollar bill.

"Will you play anything else?" he asked, as the young gentleman stood
there irresolute.

"No, thank you," said Van Bibber, remembering his vow, and turning
hastily away. "Well," he mused, "I'm one hundred and fifty dollars
better off than I might have been if Bugler hadn't been scratched and
hadn't won. One hundred and fifty dollars added to one hundred makes
two hundred and fifty dollars. That puts me 'way ahead of the game. I
am fifty dollars better off than when I left New York. I'm playing in
great luck." So, on the strength of this, he bought out the man who
sells bouquets, and ordered more champagne to be sent up to the box
where She was sitting, and they all congratulated him on his winnings,
which were suggested by his generous and sudden expenditures.

"You must have a great eye for picking a winner," said one of the
older men, grudgingly.

"Y-e-s," said Van Bibber, modestly. "I know a horse when I see it, I
think; and," he added to himself, "that's about all."

His horse for the third race was Rover, and the odds were f