youth; "well, I should say he is good. He 's
cherry-ripe, and he 'll gallop in. If I had a thousand dollars, and
did n't know where I was goin' to eat to-night, I 'd put it _all_ on
him. There 's a lot of 'marks' around toutin' Remorse to beat
him--why, that old mare could n't beat a carpet; her last two races she
could n't get out of her own way."

This was pleasant for Checkers, but he held his counsel. The next
moment the starter dropped the flag.

Remorse, with a running start from behind, got two lengths the best of
it; and, setting a hot pace, widened up the gap between herself and the
field in a way that cheered Checkers' heart.

It was a three-quarter dash, and at the half she had a lead of at least
ten lengths, with the others strung out in a regular procession. The
favorite was trailing along in fifth place; but Checkers noticed that
he was "running easy." The jockey was leaning back in the saddle, and
the horse's mouth was pulled wide open, as he fought for his head under
a double wrap.

As they rounded into the stretch Remorse still led, but she seemed to
be tiring rapidly. The favorite swung very wide at the turn, losing
several lengths; his jockey then drew in behind three others, and
allowed himself to be hopelessly "pocketed."

Up to now Checkers' new acquaintance had been silent; but at this
exhibition of incompetent jockeyship he expressed a desire to be "good
and damned if that ride would n't frost a cigar-sign Indian."

Under whip and spur Remorse staggered on two lengths in the lead.
Within fifty feet of the wire the favorite got through, and coming with
a rush, as it seemed almost in spite of his jockey's efforts to
restrain him, he nipped Remorse on the post.

From where Checkers stood it looked as though Remorse was beaten half a
length. The crowd yelled with delight; No. 4 was posted. Checkers
looked at his programme--"Remorse, No. 4." Then it was his turn to
yell, and he rather abused his privilege. The tumult of varied emotion
within him demanded this vent, and he gave it full play. "I thought I
was out of it," he laughed delightedly to the young man beside him.
"It looked like it, did n't it, at the angle? You see, Remorse had the
rail."

But the young man was n't interested in Checkers' good luck. Just then
he had "troubles of his own." He vouchsafed one glance of sour
contempt and hurried off to try to borrow car-fare from some one.

Often Checkers had won and los