ordon, who might have been radiating childlike wonder and a
circus-air of excitement at actually being _at_ the Derby. He might have
been. No one could cut through the constant, maddening mental
blah-blah-blah that was being churned out by Barcelona's noisemakers.

He greeted me curtly, eyed Nora hungrily. He said: "You look pretty
confident, Wilson."

"I can't lose," I said.

"No? Frankly I don't see how you can win."

I smiled. "Without mentioning any names, Joseph, I feel confident that
the final outcome of this racing contest will be just as you want it to
be. I shall ask that no credit be given me, although I shall be greatly
admired by our mutual friend Miss Nora Taylor who will think that I am
truly wonderful for making you happy. And it is more than likely that
she may marry me once I have shown you, and she, _and_ Lieutenant
Delancey, that I am a law-abiding citizen as well as a man who values
friendship enough to do as his old pal Joe Barcelona desires."

"It's going to be one of the neatest tricks of the week," he said.

"It will be done by the proper application of laws," I said modestly.

Behind us, Gimpy Gordon light-fingered a half dollar out of Delancey's
pocket and was attracting the attention of a hot dog peddler by waving
his program. Some folks nearby were eying Barcelona's noisemakers
angrily but making very little visible protest once they identified him.
Nora was reading her program and underlining some horses. The whole
place began to grow into a strange excited silence as the track board
began to go up. It was to be a nine-horse race, and at the top of the
list were three--count them--three odds-on favorites:

1. Murdoch's Hoard 1:2
2. Mewhu's Jet 3:5
3. Johnny Brack 5:7
4. Piper's Son 8:5
5. Daymare 3:1
6. Helen O'Loy 8:1

And then, of course, there were our three mud turtles which must have
been entered by someone who thought that the Kentucky Derby was a
claiming race and who hoped that the LePage's Glue people would make a
bid for the three mounds of thoroughbred horseflesh that dropped dead in
the backstretch:

7. Flying Heels 100:1
8. Moonbeam 250:1
9. Lady Grace 500:1

The rack hadn't hit the top of the slide before there was a sort of
mass-movement towards the mutuel windows. The ones who didn't go in
person tried to hurl betting-thoughts in the hope of getting there early
and failing this they arose and