The knavery of the turf is so ramified that it is very difficult to tell either where it begins or ends. The telegraphic wires, as all owners of race-horses, bookmakers, and bettors are aware, are now extensively used for the communication of turf information. In towns where there is a great deal of betting, and in consequence several bookmakers, receiving from half-a-dozen to twenty messages every day, denoting changes in the betting or other occurrences during the progress of a race meeting, the telegraph clerks have been known to be so tampered with that information of an important kind meant only for one person has been made public. It is said that in some of our large towns the telegraph clerks have become demoralised, and that many of them bet on the sly, making use of information which has been obtained in their official capacity, and which they ought not to divulge. Ingenious plans have been devised by these persons in order to utilise messages forwarded from one turfite to another, or from a "tout" to his employer.
Say that a message is sent from an agent in London to a bookmaker in Liverpool, that Judas, an acceptor, is being heavily backed for the Cesarewitch, and that from being at 50 to 1 the previous night he is now at 100 to 6; the clerk will delay the message on some pretence or other for ten or twelve minutes, so that a confederate may have time to visit one or two bookmakers and obtain the longer odds, well knowing that the effect of the message will be to make the horse named a prime favourite in the local betting, so that if 50 to 1 can be obtained, a profit may be made by retailing the bet at a third of the odds. That represents one mode of procedure; another plan of petty swindling which has often been tried with success is for the clerks of one town to get from those of another town the result of some important race with great rapidity, and knowing the result, have matters so planned that a confederate will be able to back or lay against, as the case may be, the actual winner or some of the losing horses, with persons who think it too soon for the decision of the race to be known. The plan of working this kind of fraud is for a series of signals to be agreed upon in order to denote the winners and losers in a race. The confederate then proceeds to the Club or bookmakers' chamber, half an hour or twenty minutes before the time set for the race, and talks over the chances of the various horses, asking the state of the odds, etc. By-and-by his "pal" arrives with the news, but he says nothing, he simply sits down, wiping his forehead or blowing his nose as the case may be. This is the signal agreed upon, and the confederate in a most nonchalant manner says: "Very well, then, Bill, I'll just have a couple of sovs. on Busybee for a win, and a couple on Clarion for a show." The bookmaker, knowing his client has never quitted the room, suspects nothing, but takes the money and enters the bet. In ten minutes afterwards the official message comes in: "Busybee, first; Mussulman, second; Clarion, third." Such practices, it is said, are common enough.
VII.
Turf chicanery finds a wide field in the executing of what are called "stable commissions," a fact which can be best illustrated by narrating a typical case.
Mr. Salisbury Moor, having been informed by his trainer that his horse, Fatcheeks, had won a very excellent trial for an important handicap, resolved in consequence, in conjunction with Bill Gaiters, his trainer, to back his animal to win the odds to £300; the odds against the horse (there being three in the same stable, each thought to have a better chance than Fatcheeks) being at the time nominally 66 to 1. Gripely—"Bill Gripely," a well-known and smart "man of affairs" in racing matters—was duly instructed to invest the money at the best price at which it could be got on. While that commission was being executed, the business of the turf money market was not so open to the light of day as at present, so that a deal could be accomplished without much publicity. Bill Gripely, the commissioner alluded to, and his confederates, Warp and Woof, the bookmakers, were at once able to "tumble" to the situation, namely, that a great trial had been won, as Mr. Moor seldom put more than £20 on one of his horses. So thinking, the trio determined upon securing a very profitable slice of the pudding for themselves. Beginning business at once, the odds of 1,000 to 16 were obtained from four different sources, which bets were followed in due course by sundry others, till, in the end, a pretty considerable sum had been secured, probably not less than £30,000.
Of this handsome realisation of the commission it was not deemed necessary to return the owner more for his £300 than (in the circumstances) the paltry sum of £6,000. The owner of the horse, knowing full well that he had been victimised by Gripely and his coadjutors, resolved to punish the conspirators by striking his horse out of the race. He found, as he supposed, that his commissioners had determined to keep some £25,000 to dole out as the horse advanced in favouritism in the betting. The commission was begun on Monday, and on Thursday forenoon the result was intimated to Mr. Moor, who, as soon as he found out what had been done, struck his horse out of the race, much to the chagrin of the conspirators, who lost a few hundred pounds over the transaction.
Many similar stories might be related, but one serves to show this mode of chicanery as well as a dozen. As a matter of fact, turf frauds of many kinds, but especially those kinds which entail no penal consequences, are plentiful enough even at the present time. Not many months ago, a sporting writer in alluding to a popular northern handicap wrote in the columns of his journal: "It is quite clear the way to victory is being cleared for the favourite. I question if more than nine horses will be found at the post, or if more than two of these will be trying. Faugh! How the dead ones do stink, to be sure."