Mr. Piker, the amateur Gam, closed his Eyes and saw himself buying
a real Panama and a dozen or so George H. Primrose Shirts. He had a
Vision of riding in a Machine called the Pink Demon, with Claire at
his side and an imported Chiffonier working the Jigger and mowing down
the Common People.
Percy had two or three Good Things that were guaranteed to go through.
They had been slipped to him by a Cigar Salesman who knew an Owner.
They looked to be the real Candy.
When he arrived at the Track he gave up for a Badge and a Dope-Sheet
and a couple of Perfectos, and this left him with 5 and a little
something on the side for Red Hots. He fought his way to the
Black-Board and demanded $2 worth of Bright Eyes at 9 to 1. While
he was struggling to get to the Fence he heard some one say that
Appendicitis was right and would win by a City Block. A Low Moan
escaped him. He climbed over a large mass of Colored People so as to
get $3 down on Appendicitis. The Odds were 7 to 5. He got balled up
in his Arithmetic, and while he was waiting for the Figures to shift
so that he could butt in with his 3, a Bell rang and the Mob tore for
the Fresh Air. He climbed a Pole and saw Bright Eyes doing a Solo.
He let go and fell in a Faint. Bright Eyes had beaten the Gate and
spread-eagled his Field. It was a Case of winning on the Chin Strap.
Mr. Piker was first in the Line, shaking like a Corn-Starch Pudding.
He wanted to cash before the Book failed.
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