“I can tell you about that to-morrow.”
“Aw,” said the dude, advancing toward the two men, “were you talking about the races, you know?[{34}]”
“That’s what,” said Steve, winking at his companion. “Do you want to make your everlasting fortune?”
“Aw, I might put up a couple of hundred.”
“That’s the cheese,” said Steve, with another wink. “I’ll bet you’re a dead-game sport.”
“It isn’t good form to be a sport, doncher know.”
“You bet it ain’t, but it’s good form to win money, eh?”
Steve poked the dude slyly in the ribs as he spoke.
“All the boys bet, doncher know.”
“Well, you follow my steer, and you’ll have a wad as big as yer head day after to-morrow.”