Part 3 (1/2)

Gordon glanced at her keenly. ”Absolutely,” he answered. ”But I hope you're not planning to raise our hundred thousand that way, because I'm afraid it might take a long time.”

He spoke in a tone of mild amus.e.m.e.nt. The girl smiled faintly. ”No,”

she answered, ”hardly that. I've seen and heard enough of 'systems' to know they're all impossible. But sheer, blind chance is always open to every one, and I'd like one try just to satisfy myself before we try your scheme. Let's chart the wheel thirty-eight times, then pick one of the numbers that hasn't come, and play it flatfoot three times running. If we lose, three hundred won't kill us, and if we win, you know what you told me about your friend McMurtrie and his black colt.”

Gordon laughed, then shrugged his shoulders. ”If you call my scheme a wild one,” he said good-naturedly, ”I wouldn't dare say what I think of yours. Still, it's possible. Everything's possible, for that matter, and, as you say, a few hundred won't be fatal. On the other hand, if we should win, I'll say frankly that I take considerable stock in old McMurtrie. He's crazy over racing, and knows the whole game, too, from A to Z. He'd never have told me what he did about his long shot if I hadn't made twenty thousand for him in two days shorting steel common. His grat.i.tude for that took the somewhat doubtful form of this tip of his. I can't even remember the colt's name now, but I could find out to-night, I suppose--if we have any occasion to.”

The girl rose. ”Come on, then,” she cried. ”Fate's going to be kind to us, d.i.c.k. I feel it. We're going to win.”

The man gazed at her curiously. ”Fate, instinct,” he muttered to himself, as he rose. ”I wish I could feel sure--”

He broke off sharply, and together they left the cafe.

In the gaming room they found a good sized crowd around the roulette table, and a smaller group gathered at the faro lay-out farther down the room. Gordon bought the little stack of yellow chips, handed them to the girl, and stood beside her, pencil and note-book in hand, jotting down the swiftly recurring numbers as the croupier called them in his even, expressionless tones.

A half hour pa.s.sed. Once the croupier, glancing at Gordon and noticing his occupation, smiled very faintly. There was no law or rule against the use of paper and pencil at Bradfield's; rather inventors of charts and systems were gladly made welcome. Their money, as Bradfield had once with some dryness observed, was just as good as anybody else's.

At last Gordon turned quickly to the girl. ”They haven't run very even,” he said hurriedly. ”Here's your choice. These numbers here.”

The girl glanced hastily at the ten numbers out of the thirty-eight left blank, and instantly made her decision. ”Thirty-five, d.i.c.k,” she whispered, and as she spoke she placed five of the counters on the chosen square. Momentarily heads were turned in her direction, and then the wheel was started once again. Bradfield's croupier wasted no time. ”Do them now,” might have been his motto. Even as Gordon leaned forward to get a better view, the ball stopped abruptly. ”Seven,”

called the croupier, and Gordon smiled ironically at the folly of the whole proceeding. Once more the girl placed her bet on the thirty-five, once more the ball revolved, slackened its speed as the wheel spun more slowly, and stopped--in the single zero. Gordon turned to his companion with a laugh. ”How about your presentiment?” he queried.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. ”Oh, we've a chance still,” she answered, ”and I rather think this is the time we win.”

Down went the last five chips on the thirty-five. ”Bets are closed,”

cried the croupier, and the little ball spun merrily away again on its accustomed journey. Gordon's eyes were fixed eagerly upon its progress--now slower and slower spun the wheel, more and more gently the little ball moderated its pace, hesitated, paused on the lip of nineteen, hung there, balanced, and then, as if with the faintest possible remaining effort, rolled on, and dropped--

”Thirty-five,” called the croupier sharply. ”Red wins--,” and the rest was lost in the quick buzz of excitement, for at Bradfield's hundred dollar flatfoots were rare. The croupier leaned forward across the table. Thirty-five hundred was quite a sum to lose, but he knew that it would make talk, help trade, and doubtless eventually come back. So he even smiled deferentially. ”I think I'll have to send for Mr.

Bradfield on this,” he said. ”We're not prepared for quite such heavy plays, as a general thing. Will you have bills or a check?”

”A check, please,” said Gordon half mechanically. ”We'll be in the next room.”

It was not until they were again seated at their table in the window that he was able to make the whole occurrence seem a reality. The girl was laughing half hysterically, the bright color in her cheeks making her prettier than ever. Gordon gazed at her in admiration.

”Well, Rose,” he cried, ”I'm not so smart as I thought I was. I guess the laugh's on me, or on Bradfield, I don't know which. Now for McMurtrie. I know just where I can locate him this very minute.”

The girl bent across the table, her eyes bright, her whole att.i.tude expectant, alluring. ”To-night?” she murmured. ”But I thought to-night--”

Gordon met her glance squarely, his eyes ablaze with pa.s.sion. He leaned forward in turn until his hand touched hers. ”In just one hour,” he cried. ”And an hour--can seem like a thousand years.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: He leaned forward until his hand touched hers. Page 44]

CHAPTER IV

THE ESs.e.x HANDICAP

Handicap Day, and true Handicap weather. A warm sun s.h.i.+ning from a cloudless sky, a light cool breeze blowing from the west, a track in perfect condition--what more could the heart of horseman desire on the greatest day of the horseman's year?

As early as twelve o'clock the long procession began to wind its leisurely way toward the track. By automobile, by coach and carriage, by steam yacht and railroad train and electric car, even by bicycle and on foot the crowds surged and flocked and fought their way, until by two o'clock thirty thousand people crowded grandstand and betting ring and paddock, keen, alert, active, on tiptoe with eagerness to see the Ess.e.x run.