When Clara Jane asked me how much I had bet on the race just about to start I could only think of $900.
When she wanted to know which horse I pointed my finger at every toad on the track and said "that one over there!"
It won.
At the end of the third race I was $19,218 to the good.
Clara Jane had it down in black and white on the back of an envelope in figures that couldn't lie.
She said she was very proud of me, and that's where my finish bowed politely and stood waiting.
She told me that it was really very wrong to bet any more after such a run of luck, and made me promise that I wouldn't wring another dollar from the trembling hands of the poor Bookmakers.
I promised, but she didn't notice that I had my fingers crossed.
I simply had to have a roll to flash on the way home, so I took my lonely V and went out into the Promised Land after the nuggets Maddy had put me wise to.
"It will be just like getting money from Uncle Peter," I figured.