The crowd rushes up the stairways, and the next moment a splendid bay horse comes around the head of the stretch.
“Denver Bay! Denver Bay!” is the cry.
Close behind him come other favorites.
They go down the paddock, followed in a straggling way by the rest of the field.
The jockeys and helpers crowd about their mounts, and excitement is everywhere.
“Hello,” shouts Denver Bay’s jockey, as a man, wearing the horse’s colors, moves up to him. “Don’t you think you are a dude?”
“I was a dude yesterday,” is the sullen reply.
“No monkeying there,” shouts Amos, walking up to the horse with a sponge in his hand. “They are about ready.”
The detective watches the man closely, and smiles as he sees something white glistening in his palm.
There is a flash of colors and a gleam of steel down in the paddock, as the jockeys mount their horses, and the entire field moves out to the track.