They hit me heavy over the race, and now they'd like to rule me off for
that thief's work," and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the
direction of Langdon.

"Yes, racin's hell now," commented Dixon with laconic directness. "It
seems just no use workin' over a good horse when any mut of a crook who
is takin' a turn at plungin' can get at the boy. I believe Boston
Bill's game of gettin' a straight boy to play, an' lettin' the horses go
hang, is the proper racket."

"Yes, a good boy is better than a good horse nowadays; but they're like
North Poles--hard to come by."

"Some mug give the Stewards a yarn that you'd bought Lauzanne, sir, an'
sez that's why you didn't win with the mare."

Porter stopped, and gasped in astonishment. What next?

"You see," continued Dixon, apologetically, "I didn't know you was
meanin' to buy that skate, so I says it was all a damned lie."

"Things are mixed, Andy, ain't they?"

"I didn't know, sir"

"Of course not--I didn't mention it to you--it was all a fluke. But I
don't blame you, Andy. I'll go and talk to the Stewards--they're all
right; they only want to get at the truth of it."

As Porter went up the steps of the Stewards' Stand, he felt how like a