Blackie Daw’s most recent Boston address had been: “Yellow Streak1 Mining Company, Seven Hundred and Ten Marabon Building,” and yet when J. Rufus paused before number seven hundred and ten of that building he found its glass door painted with the sign of the National Clockers’ Association. Worried by the fact that Blackie had moved, yet struck by the peculiar2 coincidence of his place being occupied by the concern that had given him the tip on Razzoo, he walked into the office to inquire the whereabouts of his friend. He found three girls at a long table, slitting3 open huge piles of envelopes and removing from them money, postal4 orders and checks—mostly money, for the sort of people who patronized the National Clockers’ Association were quite willing to “take a chance” on a five- or a twenty-dollar bill in the mails. Behind [Pg 184]a newspaper, in a big leather chair near a flat-top mahogany desk, with his feet conveniently elevated on the waste-basket, sat a gentleman who, when he moved the paper aside to see whom his visitor might be, proved to be Blackie Daw himself.
“Hello, none other than the friend of me childhood!” exclaimed Blackie, springing to his feet and extending his hand. “What brings you here?”
“Broke,” replied Wallingford briefly6. “They cleaned me. Got any money?”
Mr. Daw opened the top drawer of his desk, and it proved to be nearly full of bills, thrown loosely in, with no attempt at order or sorting. “Money’s the cheapest thing in Boston,” he announced, waving his hand carelessly over the contents of the drawer. “Help yourself, old man. The New York mail will bring in plenty more. They’ve had two winners there this week, and when it does fall for anything, N’Yawk’s the biggest yap town on earth.”
Wallingford, having drawn7 up a chair with alacrity8, was already sorting bills, smoothing them out and counting them off in hundreds.
“And all on pure charity—picking out winning horses for your customers!” laughed Wallingford. “This is a real gold mine you’ve hit at last.”
[Pg 185]
“Pretty good,” agreed Blackie. “I’d have enough to start a mint of my own if I didn’t lose so much playing the races.”
“You don’t play your own tips, I hope,” expostulated Wallingford, pausing to inspect a tattered10 bill.
“I should say not,” returned Daw with emphasis. “If I did that I’d have to play every horse in every race. You see, every day I wire the name of one horse to all my subscribers in Philadelphia, another to Baltimore, another to Washington, and so on down the list. One of those horses has to win. Suppose I pick out the horse Roller Skate for Philadelphia. Well, if Roller skates home that day I advertise in the Philadelphia papers the next morning, and, besides that, every fall-easy that got the tip advertises me to some of his friends, and they all spike11 themselves to send in money for the dope. Oh, it’s a great game, all right.”
“It’s got yegging frazzled to a pulp,” agreed Wallingford. “But I oughtn’t to yell police. I got the lucky word my first time out. I played Razzoo and cleaned up six thousand dollars on the strength of your wire.”
“Go on!” returned Blackie delightedly. “You [Pg 186]don’t mean to say you’re sorting some of your own money there?”
“I sure am,” laughed Wallingford, picking up a five-dollar bill. “I think this must be it. What’s the New York horse to-day?”
Blackie consulted a list that lay on his desk.
“Whipsaw,” he said.
“Whipsaw! By George, Blackie, if there’s any one thing I’d like to do, it’d be to whipsaw some friends of yours on Broadway.” Whereupon he told Blackie, with much picturesque12 embellishment, just how Messrs. Phelps, Teller13, Banting and Pickins had managed to annex15 the Razzoo money.
Blackie enjoyed that recital16 very much.
“The Broadway Syndicate is still on the job,” he commented. “Well, J. Rufus, let this teach you how to take a joke next time.”
“I’m not saying a word,” replied Wallingford. “Any time I let a kindergarten crowd like that work a trick on me that was invented right after Noah discovered spoiled grape juice, I owe myself a month in jail. But watch me. I’ll make moccasins out of their hides, all right.”
“Go right ahead, old man, and see if I care,” [Pg 187]consented Blackie. “Slam the harpoon17 into them and twist it.”
“I will,” asserted Wallingford confidently. “I don’t like them because they’re grouches18; I don’t like them because they’re cheap; I don’t like their names, nor their faces, nor the town they live in. Making money in New York’s too much like sixteen hungry bulldogs to one bone. The best dog gets it, but he finishes too weak for an appetite. What kind of a horse is this Whipsaw you’re sending out to-day?”
“I don’t know. Where’s the dope on Whipsaw, Tillie?”
A girl with a freckled19 face and a keen eye and a saucy20 air went over to the filing-case and searched out a piece of cardboard a foot square. Blackie glanced over it with an experienced eye.
“Maiden,” said he; “been in four races, and the best he ever did was fourth in a bunch of goats that only ambled21 all the way around the track because that was the only way they could get back to the stable.”
The mail carrier just then came in with a huge bundle of letters.
[Pg 188]
“New York mail,” observed Blackie. “After that Razzoo thing it ought to be rich pickings.”
“Pickings!” exclaimed J. Rufus, struck by a sudden idea. “See if Pickins or Teller or any of that crowd have contributed. Pickins said they were going to try it out, just to see if lightning could really strike twice in the same place.”
Blackie wrote a number of names on a slip of paper and handed it to Tillie.
“Look for these names in the mail,” he directed, “and if a subscription22 comes in from any one of them let me know it.”
Wallingford had idly picked up the card containing Whipsaw’s record.
It was a most accurate typewritten sheet, giving age, pedigree, description and detailed23 action in every race; but the point that caught Wallingford’s eye was the name of the owner.
“One of Jake Block’s horses, by George!” he said, and fell into silent musing24 from which he was interrupted by the girl, who was laughing.
“Here’s your party,” she said to Blackie, handing him an envelope. “This twenty’s in it, and I think it’s bad money.”
[Pg 189]
Blackie passed the bill to Wallingford, who slipped it through experienced fingers.
“You couldn’t pass this one on an organ-grinder’s monkey,” he said, chuckling25. “But that’s all right; just put ’em on the wiring-list, anyhow. Make ’em lose their money. It’s the only way you can get even.”
The girl looked to Blackie for instructions, and he nodded his head.
“Who sent it?” asked Wallingford idly.
“Peters is the name signed here,” replied Blackie. “That means Harry26 Phelps. I gave Tillie all the aliases27 this bunch of crimples carry around with them, knowing they’d probably send it in that way.”
Wallingford nodded comprehendingly.
“They’d rather do even the square thing crooked28. Well, you know what to do.”
“I’ll send them special picks,” declared Blackie with a grin. “Nothing but a list of crabs29 that would come in third in a two-horse race. But come on outside; we’re too far from cracked ice,” and grabbing an uncounted handful of bills from the drawer of his desk, Blackie stuffed them in his pocket and led the way out.
[Pg 190]
It was at luncheon30 that Blackie made his first protest.
“What’s the matter with you, J. Rufus?” he demanded. “I never saw you insult food and drink before.”
“I’m thinking,” returned Wallingford solemnly. “I hate to do it, for it interferes31 with my appetite; but here’s a case where I must. I have got to put one over on that Broadway bunch or lose my self-respect.”
That evening, on the way down to the boat, their feet cocked comfortably on the opposite seat of a cab, Wallingford formulated33 a more or less vague plan.
“Tell you what you do, Blackie,” he directed; “you send to Phelps and to me, until I give you the word, a daily tip on sure losers. In the meantime, bank all your money, and don’t make a bet on any race.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Blackie curiously34.
“Land a sure winner for us and a loser for the Broadway Syndicate. Hold yourself ready when I wire you to take a quick train for my hotel, loaded down with all the money you can grab together.”
[Pg 191]
“Fine!” returned Blackie. “You wire me that it’s all fixed35, and when I start for New York there’ll be a financial stringency36 in Boston.”
Returning to New York, Wallingford caught Beauty Phillips at breakfast about noon, and in a most charming morning gown, for the Beauty was consistent enough to be neat even when there was none but “mother” to see.
“Hello, Mr. Mark, from Easyville,” she hailed him. “I heard all about you.”
“You did!” he demanded, surprised. “Who told you?”
“Phelps and Banting,” she said. “They had the nerve to come up in the grand-stand yesterday and tell Mr. Block and me all about it; told me how much you won and how they got it away from you at poker37.”
“Did they tell you they put knock-out drops in my wine?” demanded Wallingford.
“They didn’t do that!” she protested.
“Exactly what they did. Whether we played poker afterward38, I don’t know. I’d just as soon as not believe they went through my pockets.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them a bit,” she agreed, and then her indignation began to grow. “Say, ain’t [Pg 192]it a shame! Now, if I hadn’t gone out to dinner with Mr. Block, you’d have been with me. I’d have had that lovely diamond brooch you promised me out of your first winnings, and we’d have had all the rest of it to bet with for a few days. Honest, Pinky, I feel as if it were my fault!”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Wallingford cordially reassured39 her. “It was my own fault; but I wasn’t looking for anything worse than a knife in my back or a piece of lead pipe behind the ear. There’s no use in crying over spilled milk. The thing to do now is to get even, and I want you to help me.”
“Don’t you mix in, Beauty,” admonished40 the hired mother, but the Beauty was thoughtful for a while. “Mother” was there to give good advice, but the Beauty only took it if she liked it.
“I really can’t afford it,” she said, by and by; “but I’ve got some principles about me, and I don’t like to see a good sport like you take a rough dose from a lot of cheaps like them; so you show me how and I’ll mix in just this once.”
Wallingford hesitated in turn.
“How do you like Block?” he inquired.
Beauty Phillips sniffed41 her dainty nose in disdain42.
[Pg 193]
“He won’t do,” she announced with decision. “I’ve found out all about him. He’s got enough money to star me in a show of my own for the next ten years, but he’s not furnished with the brand of manners I like. I’ll never marry a man I can’t stand. I’ve got a few principles about me! Why, yesterday he tried to treat me real lovely, but do you know, he wouldn’t give me the name of a horse, even when he put a hundred down for me in the third race? There I sat, with a string of ’em just prancing43 around the track, and not one to pull for. Then after the race is over he comes and tosses me five hundred dollars. ‘I got you four to one on the winner,’ says he. Why, it was just like giving me money! Jimmy, I’m going out to dinner with him to-night, then I’m going to turn him back into the paddock, and you can pal44 around with me again until I find a man with plenty of money that I could really love.”
“Don’t spill the beans,” advised Wallingford hastily. “Block thinks you’re about the maple45 custard, don’t he?”
“He’s crazy about me,” confessed the Beauty complacently46.
“Fine work. Well, just you string him along till [Pg 194]he gives you the name of a sure winner in advance; jolly it out of him.”
“Not on your three-sheet litho!” negatived the Beauty. “I never yet worked one mash47 against another. I guess you’d expect to play even on that tip, eh?”
“Sure, we’ll play it,” admitted Wallingford; “but better than that, I’ll shred48 this Harry Phelps crowd so clean they’ll have to borrow car fare.”
She thought on this possibility with sparkling eyes. She was against the “Phelps crowd” on principle. Also—well, Wallingford had always been a perfect gentleman.
“Are you sure you can do it?” she wanted to know.
“It’s all framed up,” he asserted confidently; “all I want is the name of that winner.”
The Beauty considered the matter seriously, and in the end silently shook hands with him. The pro5 tem. Mrs. Phillips sniffed.
This was on a Saturday, a matinée day, and Wallingford went out to the track alone, contenting himself with extremely small bets, merely to keep his interest alive. The day’s racing49 was half over before he ran across the Broadway Syndicate. They [Pg 195]were heartily50 glad to see him. They greeted him with even effervescent joy.
“Where have you been, J. Rufus?” asked Phelps. “We were looking for you all over yesterday. We thought sure you’d be out at the track playing that Boston Gouge51 Company’s tips.”
“Your dear chum was in the country, resting up,” replied Wallingford, with matter-of-fact cheerfulness. “By George, I never had wine put me down and out so in my life”—whereat the cadaverous Short-Card Larry could not repress a wink52 for the benefit of Yap Pickins. “What was the good-thing they wired yesterday?”
“Whipsaw!” scorned Phelps. “Say, do you see that horse out there?”—and he pointed53 to a selling-plater, up at the head of the stretch, which was being warmed up by a stable-boy. “Well, that’s Whipsaw, just coming in from yesterday’s last race.”
Wallingford chuckled54.
“They’re bound, you know, to land on a dead one once in a while,” he grunted55; “but I’m strong for their game, just the same. You remember what that Razzoo thing that they tipped off did for me the other day.”
“Yes?” admitted Phelps with a rising inflection [Pg 196]and a meaning grin. “Nice money you won on him. It spends well.”
“Enjoy yourselves,” invited Wallingford cordially. “I’ve no kick coming. I’m through with stud poker till they quit playing it with a hole-card.”
“I don’t blame you,” agreed Short-Card Larry solemnly. “Anybody that would bet a four-flush against two aces9 in sight, the way you did when Billy won that three-thousand-dollar pot from you, ought never to play anything stronger than ping-pong for the cigarettes.”
Wallingford nodded, with the best brand of suavity56 he could muster57 under the irritating circumstances.
“I suppose I did play like a man expecting his wife to telephone,” he admitted. “Excuse me a minute; I want to get a bet down on this race.”
“Whom do you like?” asked Pickins.
“Rosey S.”
The four began to laugh.
“That’s the hot Boston tip,” gasped58 Phelps. “Say, Wallingford, don’t give your money to the Mets. Let us make a book for you on that skate.”
“You’re on,” agreed J. Rufus, delighted that the proposition should come from them, for he had been [Pg 197]edging in that direction himself. “I’ll squander59 a hundred on the goat at the first odds60 we see.”
They went into the betting-shed. Rosey S. was quoted at six to one. Even as they looked the price was rubbed, and ten to one was chalked in its place. The laughter of the quartet was long and loud as they pulled money from their pockets.
“The first odds goes, Big Pink,” Banting reminded him.
Wallingford produced his hundred dollars, and quietly noted61 that the eyes of the quartet glistened62 as they saw the size of the roll from which he extracted it. They had not been prepared to find that he still had plenty of money. Jake Block passed near them, and Wallingford hailed him.
“Hold stakes for us, Jake, on a little private bet?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” acquiesced63 Jake. “What is it?”
“These fellows are trying to win out dinner-money on me. They’re giving me six hundred to one against Rosey S.”
Block glanced up at the board and noted the increased odds, but it was no part of his policy to interfere32 in anything.
“All right,” he said, taking the seven hundred dollars [Pg 198]and stuffing the money in his pocket. “You don’t want to lay a little more, do you, at that odds?”
“No,” declined Wallingford. “I’m unlucky when I press a bet.”
Rosey S. put up a very good race for place, but dropped back in the finish to a chorus of comforting observations from the quartet, who, to make matters more aggravating64, had played the winner for place at a good price.
Jake Block came to them right after the race and handed over the money. He was evidently in a great hurry. Wallingford started to talk to him, but Block moved off rapidly, and it dawned upon J. Rufus that the horseman wanted to “shake” him so as not to have to invite him to dinner with himself and Beauty Phillips.
Sunday morning he went around to that discreet65 young lady’s flat for breakfast, by appointment. “Mrs. Phillips” met him with unusual warmth.
“I’ve been missing you,” she stated with belated remembrance of certain generous gifts. “Say,” she added with sudden indignation, “you may have my share of Block for two peanuts. What do you suppose he did? Offered me five dollars to boost him with Beauty. Five dollars!”
[Pg 199]
“The cheap skate!” exclaimed Wallingford sympathetically.
The Beauty came in and greeted him with a flush of pleasure.
“Well,” she said, “I got it, all right. The horse runs in the fourth race Friday, and its name is Whipsaw.”
“Whipsaw!” exclaimed Wallingford. “He’s stringing you.”
“No, he isn’t,” she declared positively66. “It was one o’clock last night before I got him thawed67 out enough to give up, and I had to let him hold my hand, at that,” and she rubbed that hand vigorously as if it still had some stain upon it. “He told me all about the horse. He says it’s the one good thing he’s going to uncover for this meeting. He tried Whipsaw out on his own breeding-farm down in Kentucky, clocking him twice a week, and he says the nag14 can beat anything on this track. Block’s been breaking him to run real races, entering against a lot of selling-platers, with instructions to an iron-armed jockey to hold in so as to get a long price. Friday he intends to send the horse in to win and expects to get big odds. I’m glad it’s over with. We promised to go out to Claremont this afternoon with [Pg 200]Block, but that settles him. To-morrow I’m going out with you.”
J. Rufus shook his head.
“No, you mustn’t,” he insisted. “You must string this boy along till after the race Friday. He might change his mind or scratch the horse or something, but if he knows you have a heavy bet down, and he’s still with you, he’ll go through with the program.”
“I can’t do it,” she protested.
He turned to her slowly, took both her hands, and gazed into her eyes.
“Yes, you can, Beauty,” he said. “We’ve been good pals68 up to now, and this is the last thing I’ll ever ask of you.”
She looked at him a moment with heightening color, then she dropped her eyes.
“Honest, Pinky,” she confessed, “sometimes I do wish you had a lot of money.”
点击
收听单词发音
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1
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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slitting
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| n.纵裂（缝）v.切开，撕开( slit的现在分词 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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aces
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| abbr.adjustable convertible-rate equity security (units) 可调节的股本证券兑换率；aircraft ejection seat 飞机弹射座椅；automatic control evaluation simulator 自动控制评估模拟器n.擅长…的人( ace的名词复数 )；精于…的人；（ 网球 ）（对手接不到发球的）发球得分；爱司球 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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teller
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| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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harpoon
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| n.鱼叉；vt.用鱼叉叉，用鱼叉捕获 | |
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grouches
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| n.爱抱怨的人( grouch的名词复数 )；脾气坏的人；牢骚；生气 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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aliases
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| n.别名，化名( alias的名词复数 ) | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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crabs
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| n.蟹( crab的名词复数 )；阴虱寄生病；蟹肉v.捕蟹( crab的第三人称单数 ) | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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interferes
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| vi. 妨碍，冲突，干涉 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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stringency
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| n.严格，紧迫，说服力；严格性；强度 | |
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37
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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38
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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40
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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41
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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42
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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43
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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45
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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47
mash
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| n.麦芽浆，糊状物，土豆泥；v.把…捣成糊状，挑逗，调情 | |
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48
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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49
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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51
gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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52
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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54
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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57
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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67
thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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