"It don't make no difference," curtly answered Dixon; "it's a million
dollars to a penny whistle that Boston hasn't a dollar on yet. Our
agreement was that he'd send in his commission when they were at the
post, an' his word's like your own, sir, as solid as a judge's decision.
It's some one else. There's somebody behind that damned Langdon--he's
not clever enough for all this. D'you know that The Dutchman's runnin'
in Langdon's name to-day?"

"He is?'

"Yes; he's supposed to own him"

"But what's that got to do with Lucretia's price?"

"It means that we're goin' to be allowed to win. The other day they
laid against her, an' she got beat; to-day they're holdin' her out, so I
suppose she'll win, but somebody else gets the benefit."

"Gad! that Langdon must be a crook," muttered Porter. "I'm going to
speak to my friend Crane about him again. No honest man should have
horses in his stable."

"That they shouldn't," asserted Dixon. "But we've got our own troubles
to-day. From what I see of this thing, I'd rather back the mare at even
money than I would if she was ten to one. If I'm any judge we're being
buncoed good and plenty."

"I think you're right Dixon. I'll go back and have a good bet down on
her at evens."