"I don't see," he began, "why we can't wait one more day. We'd be
just as near the ocean at Sheepshead Bay race-track as on a Fall
River boat, and----" He halted and frowned unhappily. "We needn't
bet more than ten dollars," he begged.

"Of course," declared Dolly, "if they SHOULD win, you'll always
blame ME!" Carter's eyes shone hopefully.

"And," continued Dolly, I can't bear to have you blame me. So----"

"Get your hat!" shouted Carter, "or we'll miss the first race."

Carter telephoned for a cab, and as they were entering it said
guiltily: "I've got to stop at the bank."

"You have NOT!" announced Dolly. "That money is to keep us alive
while you write the great American novel. I'm glad to spend another
day at the races, and I'm willing to back your dreams as far as ten
dollars, but for no more."

"If my dreams come true," warned Carter, you'll be awfully sorry."

"Not I," said Dolly. "I'll merely send you to bed, and you can go
on dreaming."

When Her Highness romped home, an easy winner, the look Dolly
turned upon her husband was one both of fear and dismay.

"I don't like it!" she gasped. "It's--it's uncanny. It gives me a
creepy feeling. It makes you seem sort of supernatural. And oh,"