He was sure Alan Porter had, also the
father.
True, on the train were some bearing undeniable evidences of poverty;
but not many. One man of this latter unfortunate aspect sat next him.
His whole appearance was suggestive of the shady side of life. With the
industry of a student he pored over a disheveled sporting paper for half
an hour, then throwing it under the seat he cast a furtive look at his
neighbor, and presently said, "Dere'll be big fields to-day."
"That's too bad," Mortimer answered, through ignorance, thinking that
the other referred to perhaps a considerable walk across country to
reach the course.
"I like it," declared the man of sad drapery; "it means long odds if
you're next somethin' good."
Mortimer confined his remarks to a brief "Oh!" for the other man might
as well have been speaking Choctaw.
"Have you doped 'em out for de Derby?" asked the stranger.
Mortimer shook his head. Whatever it was it was connected with horse
racing, and he felt sure that he hadn't done it.
"Well, I'll tell you somethin'--will you put down a good bet if I steer
you straight?"
Mortimer was growing weary; his mind, troubled by the frightful disaster
that threatened Allis's family, wanted to draw within itself and ponder
deeply over a proper course of action; so he answered: "My dear sir, I'm
afraid you're mistaken.
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