The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1933-06-05
BY GEORGE BRITT

- OlOCh 1IOIIl UIlS hOIlS 1SldIlQ
railroad station in Manhattan,
through which at this season flows
daily an oddly assorted, thin
Tipped, Sun-tanned, binocular-
carrying crowd of racing folk
just one block from the station
is located a single shadowy
room which is eyes for more
horSeStruck enthusiasts than could
be seated in the stands at Belmont
and Saratoga combined.
A hundred forty girls work at
telephones here, and their voices
ripple gently though the room like
the responses to psalm.
The girls are telling which
horses won races. They call off
the winners by number, six,
eight and one" for example.
The inquirer at the other end
of the line deciphers the mean
ing from II scratch sheet in his
hand in which each horse has a
number.
When he bought this sheet of
general racing information, he got
the key to free results over the
phone.
More than 200 telephone trunk
lines enter here. An hour be-
fore noon the calls begin, asking
about horses that have been
scratched from the card and will
not run. At noon they ask for
the telephone special" recon-
mended as a good bet.
At 9 o'clock in the evening lag
CARDS still are asking for results.
An average day here produces
10000 calls; big day, $4,000.
A girl looks up from her tele-
phone and grins: Here's a man
who wants me to hold him on I'M
til I get the fifth race at Bowie.
He says he has only one nickel
left. If he has to call back again
it'll mean walking home"
q =
EOR five years, this girl says,
Il she has been dispensing racing
information. She has seen the
races herself only once.
Her knowledge comes from the
big blackboard at one side of the
room where results are chalked
up promptly as flashed from the
tracks.
This particular center. perhaps,
is the largest telephone news
source of race results. But there
are others scatterer over Man
haitian, Brooklyn and Newark.
They are not gambling places.
They are simply one of the I'M
seen elements in the structure of
Out at the sun-drenched track
a dozen horses closely punched
come charging past the stands.
They have the streaky speed of
lovely wild young things, and their
jockeys are as variegated as the
rainbow.
Then one colt pulls out ahead
and wins so beautifully it brings
tears to the eyes.
A few thousand spectators see
it, or, if it is a Kentucky Derby,
10000 or $4,000.
But any day. according to the
experts and students. several hun
dred thousand separate bets, large
and small. from all over the coun-
try. are laid on the horse races.
On a big day million bets.
Anyway, not as many as one
person in ten who bet on a race
actually sees it run. In fact, not
as many as one in twenty.
= .
TINE great majority see their
IL races by telegraph. The news
service of the tracks, therefore,
is crucial and paramount.
What price shall the bookmak-
ers pay off? 1t is settled by the
wires. Suppose, for example, the
last quoted odds on horse were
7 to l. But after he comes in a
winner the figure may go out over
the wire 5 10 /.
In the east. bets customarily
are paid at closing price. In the
west, at an average price. In either
case, a concession of one point in
the odds saves thousands of dol
lars to the bookies.
Or suppose again that the report
Of running race is held up five
or ten minutes from general cir
culation. Bookmakers at a dis
lance still might continue taking
in money on horses which alreday
had lost.
Both little systems have been
worked in the past and the
charges fly around that they still
are worked.