And Speed turned dizzy.
"And you fell for that old stuff!" Larry's voice was trembling with anger and disgust. "Why, that's part of his 'work.' He's double-crossed every runnin' mate he ever had. He'd cheat his mother. Wait!"
Skinner had left the crowd, and was seated now in the shade of the corral fence. He glanced upward from beneath his black brows as Larry reached and greeted him. "Hello, Whiz! I just 'made' you—" Then he shook his head.
"I haven't got you. My name is Skinner."
"Nix on that monaker," Glass smiled, indulgently. "I had a man in that Sheffield Handicap six years ago."
"You're in bad," asserted the cook steadily, "but assuming that my name is Long—"
"I didn't say your name was 'Long.' I called you 'Whiz.'" Glass chuckled at the point as he scored it. "Now come in; be good."
Skinner darted a look toward Gallagher and the Centipede men gathered about the shrilling phonograph, stooped and tied his shoes, and breathed softly:
"Spiel!"
"This little feller I'm trainin'—does he win?"