IV.
That is one way of "working the oracle" in order to bring off a remunerative handicap coup, and many lords and gentlemen of the turf do not disdain to follow so good (or bad) an example. If, for instance. Sir Richard Strongman, Lord Strapmore, and the Honourable Thomas Rowbotham have each entered three or four of their horses in an important handicap, what is more natural, on the turf, than that they should lay their heads together to "best" the public, and pull off a good thing at long odds for themselves? The obtaining of "long odds" has a great fascination for everybody. To win a large sum at little risk is a grand desideratum in the racing world as elsewhere. It is difficult nowadays, however, to obtain what are called long odds. Bookmakers are chary on this point, and the public, who keep no horses of their own but are quick to back the horses of other people, rush in when the betting begins on any particular race and secure the cream, leaving the skimmed milk to those who have to pay the training bills.
In order, then, to do the best they can for themselves, the three gentlemen named above resolve to call to their aid a well-known turf commissioner, one Mr. Dudley Smooth. That gentleman, who is the hero of a hundred "arrangements," takes the case in hand. He is well known on the turf and hates verbosity, but he thinks a great deal, if he says little; his leading idea is, "Only one can win, you know; how to get at it is the problem."
What usually takes place when Mr. Smooth has been prevailed upon to put a finger in the pie—he is, however, rather chary of doing so—is first of all a consultation over a chop and a bottle—champagne, of course. The number of stables represented in the handicap and the horses entered are considered, and those known or thought to have no chance are summarily scored out of the list. Each trainer and owner of the stables containing likely horses are well weighed up, considered, and intelligently discussed, after which it will probably be found that, leaving out the owners present and half-a-dozen others they will be able to influence, four stables would be seen to have a really good chance, whilst other three might possess something decidedly dangerous.
"What we want, you know, Smooth, is a certainty."
"Quite so, Sir Richard; and as only one, you know, can win, the thing is to discover it."
What was generally resolved upon to begin with was, that each of those present should, a month before the race, find out by means of a formal trial his best horse for the handicap at the published weights; next, that in a couple of days thereafter the three should be tried together along with the best public horse they were able to buy or borrow to take part in the trial at a weight agreed upon.
Smooth, to make sure, invariably superintended such trials himself, and, being an adept at the business, he could generally foretell the result as it would be in the race itself to a hair's breadth. Then he had the "form," as it is called, of such of the other horses as might compete at his finger ends, or rather, to express it literally, on his tongue. Smooth's verdict on the trial was anxiously listened to: "It will do; only one can win the race, and I think it will be Pretty Jane; she will be about half a stone better than Magician on the day." Then followed an interesting conversation, in which it was shown by Smooth that, on public form, there were in addition to the two which had just finished such a fine gallop, other three, if not four, that might prove dangerous. One of these, Smooth knew, could be made safe, and if the owners of the others would swim in with Pretty Jane, all would come right; they could then go in for a big thing, and very likely bring it off.
The effort is made.
Smooth's philosophy illustrated in his constant iteration of "only one can win, you know," ultimately prevails, and the three most dangerous animals in the race are made safe, although two of the owners insist on rather stiff terms. N'importe, the handicap can be won, and plenty of money along with it.
In the end its success is ensured, Pretty Jane beating Artful Dodger, a rod in pickle prepared by a quiet school of turfites for the same race, by only a head; "too near a thing to be pleasant," as Lord Strapmore said after the struggle was over, and the confederacy had obtained breathing time for a glass of champagne and mutual congratulations. Such schemes, it has to be said, are not always successful; but if a man can win a couple of big handicaps in twenty years, he requires nothing more in the way of turf success.
The kind of business indicated in the foregoing remarks is frequently attempted; there is a gentleman often at work, who is reputed to have a voice in four or five stables, and that being so he is able to prearrange, with considerable success, a good deal of the turf work of the period.
Few persons outside the pale of turf manipulation can possibly be aware of how much money it is possible to win over a big handicap or other good betting race—the Cesarewitch, Cambridgeshire, or Royal Hunt Cup, for example. Over and over again such sums as thirty, fifty, and even seventy thousand pounds have been "landed," as the phrase goes, by the winner of a great race. Sometimes a man is fortunate enough to find himself in possession of a horse entered for one of the popular handicaps that "cannot lose"; and if the ability of the animal be only known to himself and the trainer, he may be able, at the risk of a few hundreds, to back it to win many thousand pounds.