The Waterbury Democrat., 1940-05-01

said with Q smile, "Your claim Is zoe ing to be thrown out, too"
 What you talkin' aboutp Aint this good jackp Made by Uncle Sam"
 NO doubt excellent currency but may I ask Mir. Secretary" Willie Bond spoke in his suavest tones, whether this ah - fel- low has S2,500 to his credit with the Racing Associationp Has he, Mir. Secretaryp"
 The latter was distinctly an- noyed. He glared over his glasses at the big man irf front of him. Racing seasons just begun"
 Correct" Willie Bond con- ceded, "and we've agreed that Jockey Club rules govern here, The rules distinctly say" he waved a fat finger under the secretaryS long nose--"and see if my memory is correct, each person desiring to make a claim, unless he shall have such amount to his credit with the association, must first deposit with the association the whole amount of his claim in cash
 This -- ah -- fellow hasn't that much credit on your books; and take 1t the - ah - fellow didn't deposit $2,,'00 with you, sir, be- fore the race; else he wouldn't tender the currency now"
 one minute, MT. Bond" the official smiled, tried to speak placatingly. Generally there's a bit of liatude - when intentions are known to be good. Usually we'll take Q mans money after the race"
 'Sayl If you're going to make that kind of exception" Paul Wharton exploded, then you've got to accept my claim. Whats two minutes, when my intentions are good?"
 William Bond stepped back, looked straight at the harassed official; Suppose we take this 10 the stewards, ask them whether or not Jockey Club rules gov ern.-"
 Please, pleaser" The secretary had no desire to admit to the stewards that he could not rule his own bailiwick. He smiled unc- tiously, rubbed his hands together finished, T should say-in fact I do say that-ah--latlies, gentlemen, all claims are disallowed, the colt remains the property of Miss Bond. And better racing luck next time, Miss Bond"
 Paul Wharton turned with em- barrassment toward the girl. She continued to ignore him, looked up at her uncle, instead, said clearly:
 T knew you'd look after things for me--you're a peach, Bill Bond Sec you at dinnerl"
 Sherry turned on heel, walked swiftly out of the office,
 Sherry Bond was weaving her way through the race track crowds when she stopped, annoyed, as someone grasped her elbow. She shook free the hand, glanced over her shoulder, It was Paul Pharton- an eager look in his eyes. She had been too excited in the secretary's office to note his clothes. He looked different from the Paul Wharton Of the city. He was boyish - here; like a wiry quarterDacS, dressed in bright tweeds and with an old felt pushed back from curly black hair.
 "Sherryl"
 "Well?"
 The steel in her manner made him pause. She spoke again,
 You tried to claim my horse"
 Listen, Sherry"
 Nothing you can say interests me in the least. Besides --" She was fighting desperately to keep control of herself. Then she saw his hat again what a dlapida'"d thing! "T-that hats awful - why don't you get new one. YOU h~~. new hat more than q new horse"
 Sherry, you've got to listen"
 Again she shook his hand free. Turned, saying, you'll excuse me-" She started toward the club house.
 Paul was beside her was keep ing pace with her going up the steps - was talking siie was not hearing a word he said she went into the first vacant box. Will you please go away?" she asked Calmly he took the chair next to hers. Took of the old hat, shook his head impatiently.
 Listen, youngster-"
 Say 1t. Be quick about 1t. Then go away"
 About that claim"
 You lost. The colts mine so why talk?"
 He's still yours only because of a few technicalities."
 "Well?"