“No, now listen?” he said. “You always get cold feet at the wrong time. This is our chance. It’s air tight. It’s so secret I can’t even tell you what horse it is. Give me your money and I’ll bet it with mine.”
He sat down and went on with it until Slaymaker said: “I’m an imbecile. If anybody knew what an imbecile I am there would be a run on my bank. This is positively the last time.”
They all gave him their money. It was the third race. No more could he tell them. The horses went to the post and still they did not know which one carried their money.
“It’s on,” said John. “It’s down all right. Don’t worry about that.”
“Lord, no,” said Slaymaker. “That’s not what we are worried about.”
John watched the horses. The others watched him.
A horse named Leadbeater took the lead at the start, held all the way and won by four lengths. John fell back with a blank expression.
“That the horse?” asked Slaymaker.
“Yes,” said John. “That’s it.”
“Then what’s the matter?”