"But I know nothing about the horses," remonstrated Marion.
"Neither do I, so we have a fair chance."
"Well, I choose Belle of Newport."
"You think she ought to be fast, I suppose."
"No, but the Marquis, who, Mr. Sedger says, is a favorite, will be sure to follow her."
"Don't you play the Belle, Grahame," said Sedger, as he and Duncan left the ladies and wandered toward the Grand Stand. "Her owner told me last night that he is afraid she isn't fit."
"Perhaps he intends playing her himself," laughed Duncan.
Sedger and Duncan passed over the bridge connecting the Club House lawn with the Grand Stand, and were soon in the midst of the great crowd moving toward the betting-rooms. The sun beat down upon the heads of this army of enthusiasts, but, despite the heat, thousands of men crowded into the low room where scores of keen book-makers, with their coats off, were ranged in little booths, calling off the odds on the next race, and taking the money of the eager crowd of gamblers. By the time Sedger and Duncan had worked their way through this throng up to a book-maker, and had purchased two tickets on Marquis and Belle of Newport respectively, they were thankful to hurry out of the stifling place into the open air.
"I took your advice, Mrs. Sanderson," said Duncan, after he had returned to the club lawn. "Belle of Newport is my horse."
"I hope my choice won't bring you ill luck."