Every horse that finished last gave me the trembling lip as he
crawled home, well aware of the fact that I had caught him with the
goods.

I blame Bunch Jefferson for putting the bug in my Central.

Bunch went down to the skating pond one day with $18 and picked
four live wires at an average of 8 to 1. Then he began to talk
about himself.

After that event whenever I happened to meet Bunch he would raise
his megaphone and fill the neighborhood with hot ozone, fresh from
the oven.

It was pitiful to see that boy swell.

Just to cure Bunch and drive him out of the balloon business I made
up my mind one day I'd run down to the Flatfish Factory and drag a
few honest dollars away from the Bookmakers.

Splash!

That's where I fell overboard.

One bright Saturday P. M. found me clinging to a wad the size of
a fountain pen and trying to decide whether I'd better play
Dinkalorum at 40 to 1 or Hysterics at 9 to 5.

I finally decided that a ten-spot on Dinkalorum would net me enough
to give Bunch a line of sad talk, so I stepped up to the poor-box