nd these endeavoured to acquire information from Old Man Curry,
without success. The negro Shanghai proved more loquacious. He
trudged at the end of the line leading a big hammer-headed brute
which he often addressed as "Faro."

"Who owns these hawsses?" repeated Shanghai. "Mist' Curry--thass him
in front--he owns 'em. We got here jus' in time, I reckon. Thisyer
hawss whut I'm leadin', he goes in that Thawntum Stakes to-day."

"Nix!" said the outside man. "Just off the cars, and he's going to
start? It can't be done!"

"I ain't heard the boss say he'd scratch him," said Shanghai.

"But how long have you been on the way?"

"Oh, I reckon 'bout five days. Yes, suh; we been exackly five days
_an'_ nights gettin' here."

"Then you're kidding about that horse going to start in the Thornton
Stakes."

"No, suh; I ain't kiddin' nobody. Thass whut we brought him oveh faw:
to staht him in them Thawntum Stakes. I reckon he'll have to do the
bes' he know how."

"Are you going to bet on him?"

"Says _which_?" Shanghai showed a double row of glistening ivories.
"No, indeedy! Hawss got to show me befo' I leggo my small change!
This Faro, he can't seem to win no mile races, so the boss he thinks
he might do betteh in a long one. But me, I ain't bettin' on him, no
suh!"

Only five horses faced the barrier in the Thornton Stakes. Second
money was not enough of a temptation to the owners, who could see
nothing but the Australian mare, Auckland. The opening prices bore
out this belief. Auckland was quoted at 1 to 5, a prohibitive figure;
Baron Brant, the hope of the California contingent, at 4 to 1; The
Maori at 8 to 1; Ambrose Churchill at 12 to 1, and Pharaoh was held
at 15 and 20. The bookmakers had heard that the Curry horse had been
taken from the car at noon, and wondered at the obstinacy of his
owner in starting him, stiff and cramped from a long railroad
journey.

"Must be figuring to give him a workout and a race all at once," said
the chalk merchants.

All these things being known, a certain elderly gentleman did not
have to beg the bookmakers to take his money. He passed from block to
block in the big ring, stripping small bills from a fat roll, and
receiving pasteboards in exchange. Round and round the ring he went,
with his monotonous request:

"Ten on Pharaoh to win, please."

Every bookmaker was glad to oblige him; most of them thanked him for
the ten-dollar bills. There were thirty-two books in the circle