ll probably turn turtle," said Tish. "There is never a race
without a fatality or two. No racer can get any life insurance. Mr.
Ellis says four men were killed at the last race he promoted."

"Then I think Mr. Ellis is a murderer," Bettina cried. We all looked at
her. She was limp and white and was leaning back among the cushions with
her eyes shut. "Why didn't you tell Jasper about this curve?" she
demanded of Tish.

But at that moment a pistol shot rang out and the races were on.

The Fein won two of the three small races. Jasper was entered only for
the big race. In the interval before the race was on, Jasper went round
the track slowly, looking for Bettina. When he saw us he waved, but did
not stop. He was number thirteen.

I shall not describe the race. After the first round or two, what with
dust in my eyes and my neck aching from turning my head so rapidly, I
just sat back and let them spin in front of me.

It was after a dozen laps or so, with number thirteen doing as well as
any of them, that Tish was arrested.

Charlie Sands came up beside the car with a gentleman named Atkins, who
turned out to be a county detective. Charlie Sands was looking stern and
severe, but the detective was rather apologetic.

"This is Miss Carberry," said Charlie Sands. "Aunt Tish, this gentleman
wishes to speak to you."

"Come around after the race," Tish observed calmly.

"Miss Carberry," said the detective gently, "I believe you are back of
this race, aren't you?"

"What if I am?" demanded Tish.

Charlie Sands put a hand on the detective's arm. "It's like this, Aunt
Tish," he said; "you are accused of practicing a short-change game,
that's all. This race is sewed up. You employ those racing-cars with
drivers at an average of fifty dollars a week. They are hardly worth it,
Aunt Tish. I could have got you a better string for twenty-five."

Tish opened her mouth and shut it again without speaking.

"You also control the betting privileges. As you own all the racers you
have probably known for a couple of weeks who will win the race. Having
made the Fein favorite, you can bet on a Brand or a Bonor, or whatever
one you chance to like, and win out. Only I take it rather hard of you,
Aunt Tish, not to have let the family in. I'm hard up as the dickens."

"Charlie Sands!" said Tish impressively. "If you are joking--"

"Joking! Did you ever know a county detective to arrest a prominent
woman at a race-track as a little jes