The race in which he had wagered this thousand dollars was run, and, to his horror, his horse, that Marsten had told him was sure to win, ran last. He could not know that Marsten had simply pocketed the money. In giving him the tip, Marsten had picked the one horse in the race that had not one chance in a thousand of winning.
Had the horse, by some miracle, won, Marsten would have paid the bet out of his own pocket, knowing that he would get the money back two or three times over as the result of the inspiriting effect of this one victory. But the miracle hadn’t occurred—it very seldom does—and poor Riggs, knowing the truth, and that in a short time he was sure to be branded as a thief in the town where he had spent his whole life, was almost determined to end his troubles by suicide.
Had it not been for the appearance of Barrows with his scheme, Marsten would have let Riggs kill himself, and would not even have been conscience-stricken by the act. Gamblers harden themselves to things that would turn the stomach of the ordinary man if he thought he was responsible for them. But there was a use for Riggs; so Marsten, professing great regret, sent for him and gave him a chance to talk to Barrows.
“By Jove, Riggs!” he said. “I’m sorry about that. A thing of that sort, a perfectly straight inside tip, doesn’t go wrong once in a thousand times. I suppose it was just our bad luck that made us strike the thousandth time. Better luck next time.”
“There’ll be no next time for me,” said Riggs, almost crying. “If I don’t get that thousand back, I’m a ruined man. My heavens, this is awful!”
“You don’t mean to say you took the bank’s money?” exclaimed Marsten, as if the idea were a complete surprise.
“That’s just what I did,” said Riggs. “You said it was a sure thing, Marsten. I thought there was no risk at all. Can’t you help me out?”
“I wish I could,” said Marsten, shaking his head sadly. “I’d do it in a minute, if I had the money. But I lost pretty heavily on that tip myself. I thought it was safe, just as you did. However, there may be some way of working this out. I’ll call a friend of mine here who may be able to suggest something.”
And he came back with Barrows. Barrows heard the story with deep attention.
“You can’t raise this money, I suppose?” he said. “You haven’t anything put away?”