He took a sharp look at the two men; his practised eye told him they were not plungers, more of the class that usually bet ten dollars at the outside; they were evidently betting on information; two one-hundred-dollar bets coming together on Lauzanne probably meant stable money.
“Let's git out, mister,” cried Old Bill, clutching Mortimer's arm.
“Don't I get anything—a receipt, or—”
Faust heard this and laughed derisively. “You won't need nothin' to show for this money,” he said.
“We'll be roun' at de back in a few minutes fer a couple of t'ou',” retorted Old Bill. “Let's cut trough here,” he added to his companion, making a passage between the bookmakers.
Bill's knowledge of the local geography was good, and skirting the crowd they were soon out on the lawn.
“Let's watch de parade,” Mortimer's adjutant suggested, and he led the way down to the course, where they stood against the rail, waiting.
XXXV
During this time there was a bustle of much interest in the paddock. Allis, ready dressed in the Porter colors, had been driven to the course half an hour before the time set for the Derby. Her face was as satisfactorily disguised with dust as though she had ridden three races.