al box,
limp and gasping?

"Oh, pretty well," said the boy, "seems as if I couldn't keep away from
them. I got a good thing for today--Pompadour--in the fifth. I put all
the money on her I could get together," he announced importantly,
and then added frankly, with a laugh, "two dollars!" The laugh was
contagious, and the District Attorney laughed with him.

"Pompadour," Winthrop objected, "she's one of those winter track
favorites."

"I know, but today," declared Mannie, "she win, sure!" Carried away
by his enthusiasm, and by the sympathy of his audience, he rushed,
unheeding, to his fate. "If you'd like to put a little on," he said, "I
can tell you where you can do it."

The District Attorney stared and laughed. "You mustn't tell me where you
can do it," he said.

Mannie gave a terrified gasp and, for an instant, clapped his hands over
his lips. "That's right," he cried. "Gee, that's right! I'm such a crank
on all kinds of sport that I clean forgot!"

He gazed at the much-dreaded District Attorney with the awe of the
new-born hero-worshipper. "I guess you are, too, hey?" he protested
admiringly. "Vera was telling me you used to be a great ball tosser."

In the face of the District Attorney there came a sudden interest. His
eyes lightened.

"How did she--"

"She used to watch you in Geneva," said Mannie, "playing with the
college lads. I--I," he added consciously, "was a ball player myself
once. Used to pitch for the Interstate League." He stopped abruptly.

"Interstate?" said Winthrop encouragingly. "You must have been good."

The enthusiasm had departed from the face of the boy. "Yes," he said,
"but--" he smiled shamefacedly, "but I got taking coke, and they--" He
finished with a dramatic gesture of the hand as of a man tossing away a
cigarette.

"Cocaine?" said the District Attorney.

The boy nodded and, for an instant, the two men eyed each other, the
boy smiling ruefully. The District Attorney shook his head. "My young
friend," he said, "you can never beat that game!"

Mannie stared at him, his eyes filled with surprise.

"Don't you suppose," he said simply, "that I know that better than
you do?" With a boy's pride in his own incorrigibility he went on
boastingly: "Oh, yes," he said, "I used to be awful bad! Cocaine and all
kinds of dope, and cigarettes, and whiskey. I was nearly all in--with
morphine, it was then--till she took hold of me, and stopped me."

"She?" said Winthrop.

"Vera," sai