Omaha daily bee., 1902-10-12

Y blluluks
Presently a heavy hand was laid on Morti-
mer's shoulder and a gruf policeman's
voice asked. whats the matter here?'
Nothing much" Mortimer replied, re-
leasing his hold and Strengthening up;
this blackguard wanted me to bet on
some horse. and when | refused insulted
me. that's ALL"
The other man had risen. his face purple
from the twist at his throat. The oficer
looked at him.
AT IT again, Mr.. Bunco. I'll take care Of
him." he continued, turning to Mortimer;
hes a tout. out you 60" this to the
other man. Then, tickled in the ribs by
the end Of the policemsn's baton, the tout
was driven from the enclosure, the spec
tators merged into a larger crowd and
Mortimer was left once more to pursue his
f~ruitless search. AS he was heading for
his rock OF locality, the stairway, h%urrying
somewha recklessly. he ran with disturb
ing violence full tilt into a man who had
erratically turned to his left, when, accord
ing to all laws Of the road, he should have
kept straight on.
Il beg pardon began Mortimer, then
stared in blank amazement. cutting short
his apology. The victim Of his assault was
Mr. Crane. The latter's close-lidded eyes
had rounded open perceptibly in a look OF
surprise.
MIR. Mortimer he exclaimed; you
here? May l ask who's running the bank?'
Anxious about the stolen money, the
sudden advent of Crane on his immediate
horizon threw the young man into mo-
mentary confusion.
my mother was I'LL got leave-I had
to see Alan Porter-Ive come here to find
him. They'll manage all right at the bank
without me-"
He fired his volley Of explanation at his
employer with the rapidity Of a Maxim
gun. Truth, and what he considered ex-
cusable falsehood, came forth with equal
volubility. Crane, somewhat Modified, and
feeling that at first he had spoken rather
sharply, became more gracious. AZ sight
OF Mortimer he had concluded that 1t was
to see Allis the young man had come, per-
haps at her instigation.
Have you seen Alan Porter, sir?' Morti-
mer asked. anxiously.
"I did. but that was about an hour ago.
You will probably find him" he was going
to say Sin the paddock with his sister,"
but for reasons he refrained-'let me see,
most likely sitting up in the grandstand."
As Mortimer stood scanning the sea OF
faces that rose wave on wave above him
Crane said: 81 hope you found your mother
better. II I see Alan I'll tell him you are
looking for him.
When Mortimer turned around Crane had
| gone. He had meant to ask about the race
P~orter's horse Lausanne was in, but had
hesitated. for fear he should say something
which might give rise to a suspicion Of his
errand.
BY chance Mortimer observed a young
man selling race catalogues, as he in
n~ocently named them. He procured one,
and the seller, in answer to a question,
told him It was the third race he had just
seen and the next would be the Brooklyn
Derby. There 1t was, all set forth in the
program he had Just purchased. Seven
horses to start. ali with names unfamiliar
| except the Dutchman and Lausanne. He
had almost given up looking for Alan, it
seemed so hopeless. At any rate he had
tried his best to save the boys honor, told
! deliberate lies to do II. Now II was pretty
much in the hands of fate. He remembered
what Alan had said about the Dutchman's
certain chance Of winning the coming race.
He felt that IL the horse won Alan would
put back the stolen S1,0O0; IL not, where
would the boy get money to cover up his
theft?
He was aroused from his respondent
train OF thought by a voice that struck
with familiar Jar upon his ear. 1t was the
voice of a man Who had descanted on the
pleasures of betting during their voyage
from New York.
What dye think Of it. pard?" was the
first salutation.
Mortimer stammered the weak informa-
ton that he didn't know what he did think
Of It.
There amt no flies on us today. I'm
knocking 'em out In great shape. Cant
pick a loser. blamed II l can. I've lined up
for a cash-in three times, an I'll make 1t
four straight sure. Larcen'n come home
ali alone, you'll see II he don't"
81 hope So rejoined Mortimer.
81 say. Mister Morton, put down a bet on
him-he's good business. Put a hver on an
rake down nifty; that'l pay your ex's. The
talents goin, for the Dutchman, but don't
make no mistake about the other, he'll
win"
In an instant Mortimer knew why this
persistent worrier Of a tortured spirit had
been sent him. Fate gave him the cue; 1t
whispered in his ear, Put down a hundred
You have it-and win a thousand. then you
can save Alan Porter-can keep this misery
from the girl that is to you as your own
life"
Mortimer listened eagerly-to the babbler
AZ his side, to fate at his ear, to himself
that spoke within himself. Even II 1t we're
not ali true, II Lausanne were beaten. what
OF IL? He would lose 800, but that would
not ruin him. It would cause him to save
and pinch a little, but he was accustomed
to that,
"will the betting men take 500 from me
on this horse Lauzanne?" he asked after
tho minutes pause during which these
thoughts had flashed through his mind.
win they take a hundred? VIII they
take a thousand! Say, what you givin
me?"
III Lausanne won, ia win a thousand
would T."
"If you put 1t down straight, but yor
might play safe-split the hundred, nifty
each way. win an show. Lareen'h be one
two, three, sure"
Il want to win a thousand" declared
Mortimer.
Then you've got to plump for a win.
he's 10 TO l."
Mortimer had once visited the stock ex
change in New York. He could not hell
but think how like unto Il was the bettinl
ring with its horde Of pushing, struggling
spectators. as he wormed his way In, fol
lowing close on Old Bii's heels. Their
was q sort OF mechanical aptness in hi
leaders way OF displaeing men in his path
Mortimer realized that but for Old Bill
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