"Sey, what's half a ten spot to you people?" he said in a tone of entreaty. "The one you're waitin' f'r'll be 'bout 1 to 4 on, an' this is sunshine money, at 100 to 1. You people know how they stan' them 1 to 4 things on their heads out in Latonia. Say, take me spiel on this, won't you, f'r a fi'muth? Look where he got off th' last time out, an' where he finished! If you can't see him t' win, take th' 20 to 1 third. It'll be a shame t' spen' t' money—but take it won't you?"
The two complaisant-looking chaps turned away from the red-haired tout and began a conversation between themselves. The tout looked very warm, and an expression of despair crossed his weazened features. He mopped his face again with his blue polka-dotted handkerchief and slunk away. He sided up to one of the board-markers and said, out of the corner of his mouth:
"Say, get an ace down on Rolling Boer f'r me, will you? It's a skinch."
The board-marker grinned.
"I'm all out, Red," he replied. "Pushed me last ace up on the last whizz, an' didn't get a whistle f'r it."
"This super's good f'r a deuce in any hock shop—I've had it in f'r three," went on the red-haired tout, appealingly, pulling out an old silver time-piece and trying to pass it to the board-marker. "Lemme have a buck on it, an' I'll pass you back five f'r it after th' ring's around Rolling Boer. How's that?"
"I'm all t' th' gruel, didn't I tell you?" replied the man with the chalk, with some asperity. "I got a ticker o' me own. You're puffin' secon's, Red. Rolling Boer couldn't beat me little sister skippin' rope."
The red-haired tout walked away with an expression of deep misery on his face.
"They think they are wise t' th' ponies, hey?" he muttered. "It's bean bag they ought t' be playin'!"
He dug a quarter, two dimes and a nickel out of his change pocket and looked at the coins dismally.