“No, I didn’t tell him. I got what I wanted without doing that.”
“Now,” said Nick, “I want you on the track this afternoon when the handicap starts, and as close to Denver Bay as you can get without attracting attention.”
“Is there liable to be a scrap?”
“It strikes me that I have been in about enough scraps in this case.”
After some further conversation the detective and his assistant parted, and the former walked slowly back to the hotel.
Amos was nowhere in sight when he reached the crowd lounging about the place.
Five minutes later Nick stood in front of the counter of a small drug store a short distance from the track.
The clerk in charge came out from behind the prescription screen to wait upon him.
“I want a sugar pill,” said Nick, with a smile.
The clerk reached out his hand and took down a jar of homeopathic pellets.