“No; the racing law is very strict on that point.”
“But evidently it is done,” contended Dolman.
“I think there's very little of it,” said Porter.
This turn of the conversation made Crane feel very uneasy. “Do you think, Mr. Porter,” he asked, “that there was anything of that sort over Lauzanne? Do you think Langdon would—” He hesitated.
“Mr. Langdon has a tolerable idea of what I think,” answered Porter. “I shouldn't trust that man too much if I were you. He's got cunning enough, though, to run straight with a man like yourself, who has a horse or two in his stable, and doesn't go in for betting very heavily.”
“I know very little about him,” protested Crane; “and, as you say, he will probably act quite straightforward with me, at least.”
“Yes,” continued Porter, half wearily, as though he wished to finish the distasteful discussion; “there are black sheep in racing as there are in everything else. My own opinion is that the most of the talk we hear about crooked racing is simply talk. At least nine out of ten races are honestly run—the best horse wins. I would rather cut off my right hand than steal a race, and yet last summer it was said that I had pulled Lucretia.”
“I never heard of that, John,” cried Mrs. Porter, in astonishment.
“No, you didn't,” dryly answered her husband.
Allis smiled; she had settled that part of it with her father at the time.