before they go out. Then Langdon thinks The Dutchman's the goods, an'
buys him at a fancy price--gives a bale of long goods for him--I've got
it straight that he parted with fifteen thousand. Then the gentleman
owner, Honest John, turns the trick with Lucretia, an' makes The
Dutchman look like a sellin' plater."

"I guess Langdon'll feel pretty sick," hazarded number three.

"I'd been watchin' the game," continued the wine man, "an' soon's I saw
a move to-day from the wise guys in the ring, I plumped for the mare
'toot sweet."'

What an extraordinary thing manipulation was, Crane mused, as he
listened; also how considerable of an ass the public was in its
theoretical wisdom.

Then the three men drifted away to follow some new toy balloon of
erratic possibilities, and Crane wound through the narrow passage which
led to the paddock. There he encountered Langdon.

"He didn't run a very good horse, sir," began the Trainer.

"I thought otherwise," replied Crane, measuring the immediate vicinity
of listeners.

"I had to draw it a bit fine," declared Langdon, with apologetic
remonstrance.

"Running second is always bad business, except in a selling race,"
retorted his master.