“Aren’t we gentlemen?” growled a professional turfsman.
“Gad! it’s the first time I ever heard a jockey pretend to be one!” chuckled the first speaker. “What do you say, Mauville?”
“What do I say?” repeated the land baron, striving to collect his thoughts. “What––why, I’ll make it an even thousand, if you ride your own horse, you’ll––”
“Win?” interrupted the proud owner.
“No; fall off before he’s at the second quarter!”
“Done!” said the man, immediately.
“Huzza!” shouted the crowd.
“That’s the way they bet on a gentlemen’s race!” jeered the gleeful jockey.
“Drinks on Gladiator!” exclaimed some one. And as no southern gentleman was ever known to refuse to drink to a horse or a woman, the party carried the discussion to the bar-room.