Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-10-11

vidual members of the throng were certain
| ly possessed of innumerable elbows, and
| large jointed knees, and boots that were
! forever raking at his heels or his corns.
| They seemed taller, too, than men in the
open. Strive as he might he could see
| nothing-nothing but heads that topped
| him in every direction. Once the proud pos
! SCISSOR of a dreadful cigar Of unrivaled odor
became sandwiiched between him and Old
| Bill. He was down wind from the weed
| and its worker, and the result was all but
! asphyxiation.
| At last they reached some sort of har-
| Dor. 1t evidently an inlet for which his
| pilot had been heading A much composed
| man in a tweed suit, across which screamed
| lines of gaudy color, sat on a camp stool
| with weary, tolerant look on his Drowned
| face. Beside him stood another. in his hand
a notebook, in which was penciled the names
| of the Derby runners, with their CONNER
cial standing in the betting mart.
| Old Bill craned his neck over the shoulder
! of the sitting man, scanned the book, and
| turning to Mortimer, said ''Larcen's nine
| to one now, they're cuttin' him-wish I'd
! took tens. Let's go down the line
! They pushed out into the sea again, and
| were buffeted by the human waves; from,
| time to time Old Bill anchored for a few
| seconds in the inner harbor which surround
| ed each bookmaker, but it was as though
| they were all in league
Its same as a combination book he
| grunted the cut holds in every blasted
| one of them. Here's Jakey Faust he add
ed suddenly, Tets try him"
What prices Larcen?" he asked of the
| fat bookmaker.
What races he in?" questioned the PEN
| cler.
Dis race; what you givin me?"
| Don't know the horse"
Mortimer interposed 1.-The gentleman
| means Lauzanne,'' he explained
Faust glared in the speakers face "Why
g., tn ell don't he talk English, then? I'm nc
Chinaman, or mind-reader, to guess wha
/ he wants. Lausanne is nine 10 one. How
| much dye want?'
| Lay me ten?" asked Old Bill of the book.
| maker.
ITO how much?"
"A hunred; an me frien wants hun'rej
| on too"
I'm do it, declared Faust, impatiently
Ten hundred to one. Lausanne" he called
over his shoulder, taking Old Bills money;
| and the number is-?
| ''25, 346,'' answered Old Bill. Pass MIN
yer dust" he continued, turning. to Morti-
mer. The latter handed his money to Faust
| "Larcen," advised Old Bill.
"A Thousand to hundred-LauZanne win:
an the number is" he stretched out mis-
! hand, and turning over Mortimer's dangling
| badge read aloud "25, 347."
He took a sharp look at the two men;
| his practiced eye told him they were no,
plungers. more of the class that usually bel
| $40 at the outside. They were evidently bet
| ting on information, two 500 bets coming
together on Lausanne probably meant stable
| money.
Lets git out mister, cried Old Bill
| clutching Mortimer's arm.
| Don't 1 get anything-a receipt Or"
! Faust heard this and laughed derisively
| You won't need nothin' to show for this
| money" he said.
| We'll be round at the back in few
| minutes for couple of thou" retorted Old
| Bill. Lets cut through here. he added
| to his companion, making a passage be-
| tween the bookmakers.
| Bits knowledge of the local geography
| was good and skirting the crowd, they
| were soon out on the lawn.
| Lets watch the parade Mortimer's ad-
| jutant suggested, and he led the way down
| the course, where they stood against the
| rail, waiting.