The Man Who Could Not Lose | Page 9

From their reserve fund of twenty-seven dollars which each had
solemnly agreed with the other would not be risked on race-horses,
Dolly subtracted a two-dollar bill. This she stuck conspicuously across
the face of the clock on the mantel.
"Why?" asked Carter.
"When we get back this evening," Dolly explained, "that will be the
first thing we'll see. It's going to look awfully good!"
This day there was no scarlet car to rush them with refreshing swiftness
through Brooklyn's parkways and along the Ocean Avenue. Instead,

they hung to a strap in a cross- town car, changed to the ferry, and
again to the Long Island Railroad. When Carter halted at the special car
of the Turf Club, Dolly took his arm and led him forward to the day
coach.
"But," protested Carter, "when you're spending a hundred dollars with
one hand, why grudge fifty cents for a parlor- car seat? If you're going
to be a sport, be a sport." "And if you've got to be a piker," said Dolly,
don't be ashamed to be a piker. We're not spending a hundred dollars
because we can afford it, but because you dreamt a dream. You didn't
dream you were riding in parlor-cars! If you did, it's time I woke you."
This day there was for them no box overlooking the finish, no
club-house luncheon. With the other pikers, they sat in the free seats,
with those who sat coatless and tucked their handkerchiefs inside their
collars, and with those who mopped their perspiring countenances with
rice-paper and marked their cards with a hat-pin. Their lunch consisted
of a massive ham sandwich with a top dressing of mustard.
Dromedary did not run until the fifth race, and the long wait, before
they could learn their fate, was intolerable. They knew most of the
horses, and, to pass the time, on each of the first races Dolly made
imaginary bets. Of these mental wagers, she lost every one.
"If you turn out to be as bad a guesser when you're asleep as I am when
I'm awake," said Dolly, "we're going to lose our fortune."
"I'm weakening!" declared Carter. "A hundred dollars is beginning to
look to me like an awful lot of money. Twenty- seven dollars, and
there's only twenty of that left now, is mighty small capital, but twenty
dollars plus a hundred could keep us alive for a month!"
"Did you, or did you not, dream that Dromedary would win?"
demanded Dolly sternly.
"I certainly did, several times," said Carter. "But it may be I was
thinking of the horse. I've lost such a lot on him, my mind may
have----"

"Did you," interrupted Dolly, "say if you had a hundred dollars you'd
bet it, and did a hundred dollars walk in through the door instantly?"
Carter, reassured, breathed again. " It certainly did!" he repeated.
Even in his proud days, Carter had never been able to bet heavily, and
instead of troubling the club-house commissioners with his small
wagers, he had, in the ring, bet ready money. Moreover, he believed in
the ring he obtained more favorable odds, and, when he won, it pleased
him, instead of waiting until settling day for a check, to stand in a line
and feel the real money thrust into his hand. So, when the fourth race
started he rose and raised his hat.
"The time has come," he said.
Without looking at him, Dolly nodded. She was far too tremulous to
speak.
For several weeks Dromedary had not been placed, and Carter hoped
for odds of at least ten to one. But, when he pushed his way into the
arena, he found so little was thought of his choice that as high as
twenty to one was being offered, and with few takers. The fact
shattered his confidence. Here were two hundred book-makers, trained
to their calling, anxious at absurd odds to back their opinion that the
horse he liked could not win. In the face of such unanimous contempt,
his dream became fantastic, fatuous. He decided he would risk only
half of his fortune. Then, should the horse win, he still would be
passing rich, and should he lose, he would, at least, have all of fifty
dollars.
With a book-maker he wagered that sum, and then, in unhappy
indecision, stood, in one hand clutching his ticket that called for a
potential thousand and fifty dollars, and in the other an actual fifty. It
was not a place for meditation. From every side men, more or less sane,
swept upon him, jostled him, and stamped upon him, and still,
struggling for a foothold, he swayed, hesitating. Then he became
conscious that the ring was nearly empty, that only a few shrieking
individuals still ran down the line. The horses were going