a wireless wire tapper, had once pointed out to him. "That smile
of yours could open a safe. It could make a show girl give up
money! It's an alibi for everything from overspeeding to
murder."

Mannie, as he listened, flushed with mortification. From that
moment he determined that his life should be devoted to giving
the lie to that smile, to that outward and visible sign of
kindness, good will, and innate innocence. As yet, he had not
succeeded.

He interrupted Mabel at the telephone to inquire the whereabouts
of Vera. "There's two girls in there, now," he said, "waiting to
have their fortunes doped."

"Let'em wait!" exclaimed Mabel. "Vera's upstairs dressing." In
her eyes was the baleful glare of the plunger. "What was that
you give me in the third race?"

At the first touch of the ruling passion, what interest Mannie
may have felt for the impatient visitors vanished. "Not in the
third," he corrected briskly. "Keene entry win the third."

Mabel appealed breathlessly to the telephone. "What price the
Keene entry in the third?" She turned to Mannie with reproachful
eyes. "Even money!" she complained.

"That's what I told you," retorted Mannie. He lowered his voice,
and gazed apprehensively toward the front parlor. "If you want a
really good thing," he whispered hoarsely, "ask Joe what