play him--it's dollars to doughnuts
they will--an' he gets beat, there'll be a kick. I can't take no chances
of bein' had up by the Stewards."

"Wait a bit," replied Crane, calmly. "Supposing Porter's mare worked
five and a half furlongs in 1.07, how would she go in the Eclipse?"

"She'd win in a walk; unless The Dutchman was at his best when he might
give her an argument."

"Well, if I thought The Dutchman could beat the mare, I'd make him win,
if he never carried the saddle again," declared Crane, almost fiercely.
Then he interrupted himself, breaking off abruptly. Very seldom indeed
it was that Crane gave expression to sentiment; his words were simply
a motor for carrying the impact of his well-thought-out plans to the
executive agents. "It will be doing Porter a good turn to-to-that is, if
Lucretia wins. I fancy he needs a win. Bad racing luck will hardly stop
the mare this time--not twice in succession you know, Langdon," and he
looked meaningly at his jackal. "You buy The Dutchman, and be good to
him."

He laid marked emphasis on the words "be good to him." The trainer
understood. It meant that he was to send The Dutchman to the post half
fit, eased up in his work; then the horse could try, and the jockey
could try, and, in spite of it all, the fast filly of Porter's would
win, and his subtle master, Crane, would have turned the result to his
own benefit. Why should he reason, or object, or counterplot, or do
anything but just follow blindly the dictates of this past master in the
oblique game he loved so well? Crane wanted The Dutchman because he was
a good horse; he also wanted to have a heavy plunge on Lucretia; but
with the son of Hanover in other hands the good thing might not come
off. Somehow Langdon felt miserably inefficient in the presence
of Crane--his self-respect suffered; the other man's mind was so
overmastering, even to detail. The Trainer felt a sudden desire to
right himself in Crane's estimation, give some evidence of ordinary
intelligence, or capability to carry out his mission. "If The Dutchman's
owner was made to think that the horse was likely to break down, throw a
splint, or--"

But Crane interrupted him in his quiet, masterful way, saying: "I know
nothing of horse trading; I simply furnish the money, loan it to you, my
dear Mr. Langdon, and you buy the animal in your own best way. You
will pay for him with a check on my bank." No man could close out an
interview so effectually as Cr