Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-02-22

| to see Alan Porter-I've 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 falsehood came forth with equal volubility. Crane, feel ing that at first he had spoken rather sharply, became more gracious. He had concluded that 1t was to see Allis the young man had come, perhaps at her instigation.
 Have you seen ~Alan Porter, sir?" Mortimer asked, anxiously.
 "I did, but that was about an hour ago. You will probably find him"-he was going to say-"in the paddock with his sister," but for reasons he re- strained; '1et me see, most likely sitting up in the grand stand"
 As Mortimer stood scanning the sea of faces that rose wave on wave above him, MT. Crane said: 'I hope you found your mother better. If see Alan I'll tell him you are looking for him." When Mortimer turned around Crane had gone. He heard the rolling thun- der of hoof beats in the air. From l where he stood, over the heads of many people he could see gaudy colored silk jackets coming swiftly up the broad, straight boulevard of the race course; even as be looked they passed | by with a peculiar bobbing up-and- 1 down motion. The effect was grotesQus, l for he could not see the horses. A thought flashed through his mind l that it might bs the Derby. By chance, l he observed young man selling race catalogues, as he innocently named 1 them. He procured one, and the seller l in answer to question told him 1t was the third race he had just seen, and the next would be the Brooklyn Derby. There 1t was, all set forth in the l programme he had just purchased. 1 Seven horses to start, all with names unfamiliar except The Dutchman and Lauzanne. He had almost given up l 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 it. Now it was pretty much 1 in the hands of fate He remembered what Alan had said about The Dutch l mans certain chance of winning the | coming race. He felt that if the horse won, Alan would put back the stolen 1 thousand dollars; if not, where would the boy get money to cover up his ] theft?
 l It had seemed to Mortimer foolish. 1 desperate thing to risk money on any, l thing so uncertain as horse-race; but l here was at stake the honor of a bright splendid young man-the happiness of 1 his parents. It was terrible. Mortimer shuddered and closed his eyes when l he thought of the misery, the shame, | that would come to Allis and her l mother when they knew, as they must, 1 if Cranes horse were beaten, that the | son was thief.
 He was reused from his Respondent l train of thought by speech that struck 1 with familiar jar upon his ear. What dye t'ink of it, pard?" was l the first salutation.
 Mortimer stammered that he didn't l know what to think of it.
 "Dere ain't no flies on us to-day-I'm l knockin' 'em out in great shape. Can't pick loser, blamed if can. I've lined l up for cash-in tree times, an I'll make I 1t four straight, sure. LacenH come home all alone; you see if he don't" l "I hope so,'' rejoined Mortimer.
 "I say, MT. Morton, put down bet on him-he's good business"
 In an instant the young man knew why this pesistent worrier of tortured spirit had been sent to him. Fate gave him the cue; it whispered in his ear: "Put down hundred-you have it-and win thousand; then you can save s Alan Porterand keep this misery from the girl that is to you as your own life"
 Mortimer listened eagerly; to the 1 babbler at his side; to the whisper in his ear; to himself, that spoke within himself. Even if it were not all true, | If Lauzanne were beaten, what Of it? He would lose hundred dollars, put that would not ruin him.
 Will the betting men take 8 hundred dollars from me on this horse, Lau- zanne?" he askey.
 Will dey take hundred? Will dey take t'ousand! Say, what you giyin' mel" .#..-..>
 If Lauzanne won, I'd win a thousand, would I?' ... .u..
 If you put it down straight; but you might play safe-split de hundred. fifty each way, win an show; Larcen1l be one, two, tree, sure."
 T want to win thousand" declared Mortimer. .,s
 Den you've got to plump fer win; he's ten to one."
 Mortimer could hardly understand himself; he was falling in with the bet ting idea.
 He took despairing look through the thicket of human beings that made g living forest all about, in a last en: deavor to discover Alan Porter. Not three paces away a uniquely familiar figure was threading in and out the changing maze-it was Mike Gaynor.
 Mortimer broke from his friend and with quick steps reached the trainers side.
 ''I want to find Alan Porter he said, in answer to Gaynor's surprised salu- tafiop