Nick Carter watched the face of the bookmaker as he made this proposition, and saw at once that he was pleased to get a bet even at such odds.
“All right,” said the bookmaker. “Put up your dust. Here’s your ticket.”
“If the horse don’t start, now,” said Nick, counting out the money, “I get this back, I suppose.”
“That’ll be all right,” said the other, in a non-committal sort of way.
“When I sell my cattle,” said Nick, resolved to learn still more regarding the pool-room idea of the horse, “I may want to bet some more.”
“I’ll take all the bets you want to make at that rate.”
“Will they let me see the horse?”
“You’ll have to settle that with the trainer.”
“Where is he?”
“In one of the stables near the track, I suppose.”