h the names
of the jockeys, are now being hoisted. He makes a pencil-mark opposite
the name of each starter on his racing-card, and jots down the name of
the jockey. Raff, he sees, is riding Green Cloak. That is in its
favour.

When he gets back to the betting-ring, the bookmakers are shouting
hoarsely against each other. Liberal is a very hot favourite. They are
shouting: "I'll take two to one. I'll take two to one. Five to one bar
one. A hundred to eight Green Cloak." He feels almost sure Liberal
will win, but Green Cloak--he wishes he had asked the tobacconist
where he got his information from. Anyhow, half-a-sovereign doesn't
matter much. He goes up to a bookmaker, and says: "Ten shillings Green
Cloak." The bookmaker turns to his clerk and says: "Six pound five to
ten shillings Green Cloak," gives a red-white-and-blue card with his
name and a number on it; the other takes the card, writes on the back
of it the name of the horse and the amount of the bet, and makes for
the stand to see the race. The horses have now come out, and are off
one after another to the starting-post. Green Cloak would be hard to
miss because of his jockey's colours--old gold, scarlet sleeves, and
green and black quartered cap. The bell has hardly rung to announce
that the race has begun when men in the crowd begin to dogmatise about
the result. One man keeps saying: "Green Cloak wins this race. Green
Cloak wins this race." Another says: "Liberal leads." Another says:
"No; that's Jumping Frog." To the unaccustomed eye the horses seem as
close to each other as a swarm of bees. Suddenly, however, a bay horse
springs forward and seems to put a length between itself and the
others at every stride. The people in the stand shout: "Liberal!
Liberal!" It wins by about ten lengths. Green Cloak is second, but a
bad second. The crowd begins to pour down from the stand again. Those
who have won wait near the bookmakers till the winner has been to the
unsaddling enclosure and the announcement "All right" is made. Then
the bookmakers begin to pay out, and the crowd moves off to the
paddock again to see the horses for the next race.

Friends stop each other and exchange information in low voices. Others
do their best to listen in the hope of overhearing information: "I
hear Tomsk," "Johnnie says lay your last penny on Glasgow Pet," "I'm
going to back Submarine." And the parade of the horses, the hoisting
of the names of the starters and jockeys, the layin