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diff --git a/1760-h/1760-h.htm b/1760-h/1760-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba9dd04 --- /dev/null +++ b/1760-h/1760-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2252 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Man Who Could Not Lose, by Richard Harding Davis + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's The Man Who Could Not Lose, by Richard Harding Davis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Man Who Could Not Lose + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: October 23, 2008 [EBook #1760] +Last Updated: September 26, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO COULD NOT LOSE *** + + + + +Produced by Aaron Cannon, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE MAN WHO COULD NOT LOSE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Richard Harding Davis + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + The Carters had married in haste and refused to repent at leisure. So + blindly were they in love, that they considered their marriage their + greatest asset. The rest of the world, as represented by mutual friends, + considered it the only thing that could be urged against either of them. + While single, each had been popular. As a bachelor, young “Champ” Carter + had filled his modest place acceptably. Hostesses sought him for dinners + and week-end parties, men of his own years, for golf and tennis, and young + girls liked him because when he talked to one of them he never talked of + himself, or let his eyes wander toward any other girl. He had been brought + up by a rich father in an expensive way, and the rich father had then died + leaving Champneys alone in the world, with no money, and with even a few + of his father’s debts. These debts of honor the son, ever since leaving + Yale, had been paying off. It had kept him very poor, for Carter had + elected to live by his pen, and, though he wrote very carefully and + slowly, the editors of the magazines had been equally careful and slow in + accepting what he wrote. + </p> + <p> + With an income so uncertain that the only thing that could be said of it + with certainty was that it was too small to support even himself, Carter + should not have thought of matrimony. Nor, must it be said to his credit, + did he think of it until the girl came along that he wanted to marry. + </p> + <p> + The trouble with Dolly Ingram was her mother. Her mother was a really + terrible person. She was quite impossible. She was a social leader, and of + such importance that visiting princes and society reporters, even among + themselves, did not laugh at her. Her visiting list was so small that she + did not keep a social secretary, but, it was said, wrote her invitations + herself. Stylites on his pillar was less exclusive. Nor did he take his + exalted but lonely position with less sense of humor. When Ingram died and + left her many millions to dispose of absolutely as she pleased, even to + the allowance she should give their daughter, he left her with but one + ambition unfulfilled. That was to marry her Dolly to an English duke. + Hungarian princes, French marquises, Italian counts, German barons, Mrs. + Ingram could not see. Her son-in-law must be a duke. She had her eyes on + two, one somewhat shopworn, and the other a bankrupt; and in training, she + had one just coming of age. Already she saw her self a sort of a dowager + duchess by marriage, discussing with real dowager duchesses the way to + bring up teething earls and viscounts. For three years in Europe Mrs. + Ingram had been drilling her daughter for the part she intended her to + play. But, on returning to her native land, Dolly, who possessed all the + feelings, thrills, and heart-throbs of which her mother was ignorant, + ungratefully fell deeply in love with Champneys Carter, and he with her. + It was always a question of controversy between them as to which had first + fallen in love with the other. As a matter of history, honors were even. + </p> + <p> + He first saw her during a thunder storm, in the paddock at the races, + wearing a rain-coat with the collar turned up and a Panama hat with the + brim turned down. She was talking, in terms of affectionate familiarity, + with Cuthbert’s two-year-old, The Scout. The Scout had just lost a race by + a nose, and Dolly was holding the nose against her cheek and comforting + him. The two made a charming picture, and, as Carter stumbled upon it and + halted, the race-horse lowered his eyes and seemed to say: “Wouldn’t YOU + throw a race for this?” And the girl raised her eyes and seemed to say: + “What a nice-looking, bright-looking young man! Why don’t I know who you + are?” + </p> + <p> + So, Carter ran to find Cuthbert, and told him The Scout had gone lame. + When, on their return, Miss Ingram refused to loosen her hold on The + Scout’s nose, Cuthbert apologetically mumbled Carter’s name, and in some + awe Miss Ingram’s name, and then, to his surprise, both young people lost + interest in The Scout, and wandered away together into the rain. + </p> + <p> + After an hour, when they parted at the club stand, for which Carter could + not afford a ticket, he asked wistfully: “Do you often come racing?” and + Miss Ingram said: “Do you mean, am I coming to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “I do!” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Then, why didn’t you say that?” inquired Miss Ingram. “Otherwise I + mightn’t have come. I have the Holland House coach for to-morrow, and, if + you’ll join us, I’ll save a place for you, and you can sit in our box. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve lived so long abroad,” she explained, “that I’m afraid of not being + simple and direct like other American girls. Do you think I’ll get on here + at home?” + </p> + <p> + “If you get on with every one else as well as you’ve got on with me,” said + Carter morosely, “I will shoot myself.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Ingram smiled thoughtfully. “At eleven, then,” she said, “in front of + the Holland House.” + </p> + <p> + Carter walked away with a flurried, heated suffocation around his heart + and a joyous lightness in his feet. Of the first man he met he demanded, + “Who was the beautiful girl in the rain-coat?” And when the man told him, + Carter left him without speaking. For she was quite the richest girl in + America. But the next day that fault seemed to distress her so little that + Carter, also, refused to allow it to rest on his conscience, and they were + very happy. And each saw that they were happy because they were together. + </p> + <p> + The ridiculous mother was not present at the races, but after Carter began + to call at their house and was invited to dinner, Mrs. Ingram received him + with her habitual rudeness. As an impediment in the success of her + ambition she never considered him. As a boy friend of her daughter’s, she + classed him with “her” lawyer and “her” architect and a little higher than + the “person” who arranged the flowers. Nor, in her turn, did Dolly + consider her mother; for within two months another matter of controversy + between Dolly and Carter was as to who had first proposed to the other. + Carter protested there never had been any formal proposal, that from the + first they had both taken it for granted that married they would be. But + Dolly insisted that because he had been afraid of her money, or her + mother, he had forced her to propose to him. + </p> + <p> + “You could not have loved me very much,” she complained, “if you’d let a + little thing like money make you hesitate.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not a little thing,” suggested Carter. “They say it’s several + millions, and it happens to be YOURS. If it were MINE, now!” “Money,” said + Dolly sententiously, “is given people to make them happy, not to make them + miserable.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait until I sell my stories to the magazines,” said Carter, “and then I + will be independent and can support you.” + </p> + <p> + The plan did not strike Dolly as one likely to lead to a hasty marriage. + But he was sensitive about his stories, and she did not wish to hurt his + feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s get married first,” she suggested, “and then I can BUY you a + magazine. We’ll call it CARTER’S MAGAZINE and we will print nothing in it + but your stories. Then we can laugh at the editors!” + </p> + <p> + “Not half as loud as they will,” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + With three thousand dollars in bank and three stories accepted and + seventeen still to hear from, and with Dolly daily telling him that it was + evident he did not love her, Carter decided they were ready, hand in hand, + to leap into the sea of matrimony. His interview on the subject with Mrs. + Ingram was most painful. It lasted during the time it took her to walk out + of her drawing-room to the foot of her staircase. She spoke to herself, + and the only words of which Carter was sure were “preposterous” and + “intolerable insolence.” Later in the morning she sent a note to his flat, + forbidding him not only her daughter, but the house in which her daughter + lived, and even the use of the United States mails and the New York + telephone wires. She described his conduct in words that, had they come + from a man, would have afforded Carter every excuse for violent exercise. + </p> + <p> + Immediately in the wake of the note arrived Dolly, in tears, and carrying + a dressing-case. + </p> + <p> + “I have left mother!” she announced. “And I have her car downstairs, and a + clergyman in it, unless he has run away. He doesn’t want to marry us, + because he’s afraid mother will stop supporting his flower mission. You + get your hat and take me where he can marry us. No mother can talk about + the man I love the way mother talked about you, and think I won’t marry + him the same day!” + </p> + <p> + Carter, with her mother’s handwriting still red before his eyes, and his + self-love shaken with rage flourished the letter. + </p> + <p> + “And no mother,” he shouted, “can call ME a ‘fortune-hunter’ and a + ‘cradle-robber’ and think I’ll make good by marrying her daughter! Not + until she BEGS me to!” + </p> + <p> + Dolly swept toward him like a summer storm. Her eyes were wet and + flashing. “Until WHO begs you to?” she demanded. “WHO are you marrying; + mother or me?” + </p> + <p> + “If I marry you,” cried Carter, frightened but also greatly excited, “your + mother won’t give you a penny!” + </p> + <p> + “And that,” taunted Dolly, perfectly aware that she was ridiculous, “is + why you won’t marry me!” + </p> + <p> + For an instant, long enough to make her blush with shame and happiness, + Carter grinned at her. “Now, just for that,” he said, “I won’t kiss you, + and I WILL marry you!” But, as a matter of fact, he DID kiss her. Then he + gazed happily around his small sitting-room. “Make yourself at home here,” + he directed, “while I pack my bag.” + </p> + <p> + “I MEAN to make myself very much at home here,” said Dolly joyfully, “for + the rest of my life.” + </p> + <p> + From the recesses of the flat Carter called: “The rent’s paid only till + September. After that we live in a hall bedroom and cook on a gas-stove. + And that’s no idle jest, either.” + </p> + <p> + Fearing the publicity of the City Hall license bureau, they released the + clergyman, much to the relief of that gentleman, and told the chauffeur to + drive across the State line into Connecticut. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the last time we can borrow your mother’s car,” said Carter, “and + we’d better make it go as far as we can.” + </p> + <p> + It was one of those days in May. Blue was the sky and sunshine was in the + air, and in the park little girls from the tenements, in white, were + playing they were queens. Dolly wanted to kidnap two of them for + bridesmaids. In Harlem they stopped at a jeweler’s shop, and Carter got + out and bought a wedding-ring. + </p> + <p> + In the Bronx were dogwood blossoms and leaves of tender green and beds of + tulips, and along the Boston Post Road, on their right, the Sound flashed + in the sunlight; and on their left, gardens, lawns, and orchards ran with + the road, and the apple trees were masses of pink and white. + </p> + <p> + Whenever a car approached from the rear, Carter pretended it was Mrs. + Ingram coming to prevent the elopement, and Dolly clung to him. When the + car had passed, she forgot to stop clinging to him. + </p> + <p> + In Greenwich Village they procured a license, and a magistrate married + them, and they were a little frightened and greatly happy and, they both + discovered simultaneously, outrageously hungry. So they drove through + Bedford Village to South Salem, and lunched at the Horse and Hounds Inn, + on blue and white china, in the same room where Major Andre was once a + prisoner. And they felt very sorry for Major Andre, and for everybody who + had not been just married that morning. And after lunch they sat outside + in the garden and fed lumps of sugar to a charming collie and cream to a + fat gray cat. + </p> + <p> + They decided to start housekeeping in Carter’s flat, and so turned back to + New York, this time following the old coach road through North Castle to + White Plains, across to Tarrytown, and along the bank of the Hudson into + Riverside Drive. Millions and millions of friendly folk, chiefly + nurse-maids and traffic policemen, waved to them, and for some reason + smiled. + </p> + <p> + “The joke of it is,” declared Carter, “they don’t know! The most wonderful + event of the century has just passed into history. We are married, and + nobody knows!” + </p> + <p> + But when the car drove away from in front of Carter’s door, they saw on + top of it two old shoes and a sign reading: “We have just been married.” + While they had been at luncheon, the chauffeur had risen to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” said Carter soothingly, “he meant no harm. And it’s the only + thing about our wedding yet that seems legal.” + </p> + <p> + Three months later two very unhappy young people faced starvation in the + sitting-room of Carter’s flat. Gloom was written upon the countenance of + each, and the heat and the care that comes when one desires to live, and + lacks the wherewithal to fulfill that desire, had made them pallid and had + drawn black lines under Dolly’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ingram had played her part exactly as her dearest friends had said + she would. She had sent to Carter’s flat, seven trunks filled with Dolly’s + clothes, eighteen hats, and another most unpleasant letter. In this, on + the sole condition that Dolly would at once leave her husband, she offered + to forgive and to support her. + </p> + <p> + To this Dolly composed eleven scornful answers, but finally decided that + no answer at all was the most scornful. + </p> + <p> + She and Carter then proceeded joyfully to waste his three thousand dollars + with that contempt for money with which on a honey-moon it should always + be regarded. When there was no more, Dolly called upon her mother’s + lawyers and inquired if her father had left her anything in her own right. + The lawyers regretted he had not, but having loved Dolly since she was + born, offered to advance her any money she wanted. They said they felt + sure her mother would “relent.” + </p> + <p> + “SHE may,” said Dolly haughtily. “I WON’T! And my husband can give me all + I need. I only wanted something of my own, because I’m going to make him a + surprise present of a new motor-car. The one we are using now does not + suit us.” + </p> + <p> + This was quite true, as the one they were then using ran through the + subway. + </p> + <p> + As summer approached, Carter had suddenly awakened to the fact that he + soon would be a pauper, and cut short the honey-moon. They returned to the + flat, and he set forth to look for a position. Later, while still looking + for it, he spoke of it as a “job.” He first thought he would like to be an + assistant editor of a magazine. But he found editors of magazines anxious + to employ new and untried assistants, especially in June, were very few. + On the contrary, they explained they were retrenching and cutting down + expenses—they meant they had discharged all office boys who received + more than three dollars a week. They further “retrenched,” by taking a + mean advantage of Carter’s having called upon them in person, by handing + him three or four of his stories—but by this he saved his + postage-stamps. + </p> + <p> + Each day, when he returned to the flat, Dolly, who always expected each + editor would hastily dust off his chair and offer it to her brilliant + husband, would smile excitedly and gasp, “Well?” and Carter would throw + the rejected manuscripts on the table and say: “At least, I have not + returned empty-handed.” Then they would discover a magazine that neither + they nor any one else knew existed, and they would hurriedly readdress the + manuscripts to that periodical, and run to post them at the letter-box on + the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Any one of them, if ACCEPTED,” Carter would point out, “might bring us in + twenty-five dollars. A story of mine once sold for forty; so to-night we + can afford to dine at a restaurant where wine is NOT ‘included.’” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, they never lost their sense of humor. Otherwise the narrow + confines of the flat, the evil smells that rose from the baked streets, + the greasy food of Italian and Hungarian restaurants, and the + ever-haunting need of money might have crushed their youthful spirits. But + in time even they found that one, still less two, cannot exist exclusively + on love and the power to see the bright side of things—especially + when there is no bright side. They had come to the point where they must + borrow money from their friends, and that, though there were many who + would have opened their safes to them, they had agreed was the one thing + they would not do, or they must starve. The alternative was equally + distasteful. + </p> + <p> + Carter had struggled earnestly to find a job. But his inexperience and the + season of the year were against him. No newspaper wanted a dramatic critic + when the only shows in town had been running three months, and on roof + gardens; nor did they want a “cub” reporter when veterans were being “laid + off” by the dozens. Nor were his services desired as a private secretary, + a taxicab driver, an agent to sell real estate or automobiles or stocks. + As no one gave him a chance to prove his unfitness for any of these + callings, the fact that he knew nothing of any of them did not greatly + matter. At these rebuffs Dolly was distinctly pleased. She argued they + proved he was intended to pursue his natural career as an author. + </p> + <p> + That their friends might know they were poor did not affect her, but she + did not want them to think by his taking up any outside “job” that they + were poor because as a literary genius he was a failure. She believed in + his stories. She wanted every one else to believe in them. Meanwhile, she + assisted him in so far as she could by pawning the contents of five of the + seven trunks, by learning to cook on a “Kitchenette,” and to laundry her + handkerchiefs and iron them on the looking-glass. + </p> + <p> + They faced each other across the breakfast-table. It was only nine + o’clock, but the sun beat into the flat with the breath of a furnace, and + the air was foul and humid. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you,” Carter was saying fiercely, “you look ill. You are ill. You + must go to the sea-shore. You must visit some of your proud friends at + East Hampton or Newport. Then I’ll know you’re happy and I won’t worry, + and I’ll find a job. I don’t mind the heat—and I’ll write you love + letters”—he was talking very fast and not looking at Dolly—“like + those I used to write you, before——” + </p> + <p> + Dolly raised her hand. “Listen!” she said. “Suppose I leave you. What will + happen? I’ll wake up in a cool, beautiful brass bed, won’t I—with + cretonne window-curtains, and salt air blowing them about, and a maid to + bring me coffee. And instead of a bathroom like yours, next to an elevator + shaft and a fire-escape, I’ll have one as big as a church, and the whole + blue ocean to swim in. And I’ll sit on the rocks in the sunshine and watch + the waves and the yachts—” + </p> + <p> + “And grow well again!” cried Carter. “But you’ll write to me,” he added + wistfully, “every day, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + In her wrath, Dolly rose, and from across the table confronted him. + </p> + <p> + “And what will I be doing on those rocks?” she cried. “You KNOW what I’ll + be doing! I’ll be sobbing, and sobbing, and calling out to the waves: ‘Why + did he send me away? Why doesn’t he want me? Because he doesn’t love me. + That’s why! He doesn’t LOVE me!’ And you DON’T!” cried Dolly. “You DON’T!” + </p> + <p> + It took him all of three minutes to persuade her she was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” sobbed Dolly, “that’s settled. And there’ll be no more + talk of sending me away! + </p> + <p> + “There will NOT!” said Champneys hastily. “We will now,” he announced, “go + into committee of the whole and decide how we are to face financial + failure. Our assets consist of two stories, accepted, but not paid for, + and fifteen stories not accepted.” In cash, he spread upon the table a + meagre collection of soiled bills and coins. “We have twenty-seven dollars + and fourteen cents. That is every penny we possess in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly regarded him fixedly and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Is it wicked,” she asked, “to love you so?” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you been listening to me?” demanded Carter. + </p> + <p> + Again Dolly shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I was watching the way you talk. When your lips move fast they do such + charming things.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” roared Carter, “that we haven’t a penny in the world, that + we have nothing in this flat to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “I still have five hats,” said Dolly. + </p> + <p> + “We can’t eat hats,” protested Champneys. + </p> + <p> + “We can sell hats!” returned Dolly. “They cost eighty dollars apiece!” + </p> + <p> + “When you need money,” explained Carter, “I find it’s just as hard to sell + a hat as to eat it.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-seven dollars and fourteen cents,” repeated Dolly. She exclaimed + remorsefully: “And you started with three thousand! What did I do with + it?” + </p> + <p> + “We both had the time of our lives with it!” said Carter stoutly. “And + that’s all there is to that. Post-mortems,” he pointed out, “are useful + only as guides to the future, and as our future will never hold a second + three thousand dollars, we needn’t worry about how we spent the first one. + No! What we must consider now is how we can grow rich quick, and the + quicker and richer, the better. Pawning our clothes, or what’s left of + them, is bad economics. There’s no use considering how to live from meal + to meal. We must evolve something big, picturesque, that will bring a + fortune. You have imagination; I’m supposed to have imagination, we must + think of a plan to get money, much money. I do not insist on our plan + being dignified, or even outwardly respectable; so long as it keeps you + alive, it may be as desperate as—” + </p> + <p> + “I see!” cried Dolly; “like sending mother Black Hand letters!” + </p> + <p> + “Blackmail——” began that lady’s son-in-law doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Or!” cried Dolly, “we might kidnap Mr. Carnegie when he’s walking in the + park alone, and hold him for ransom. Or”—she rushed on—“we + might forge a codicil to father’s will, and make it say if mother + shouldn’t like the man I want to marry, all of father’s fortune must go to + my husband!” + </p> + <p> + “Forgery,” exclaimed Champneys, “is going further than I——” + </p> + <p> + “And another plan,” interrupted Dolly, “that I have always had in mind, is + to issue a cheaper edition of your book, ‘The Dead Heat.’ The reason the + first edition of ‘The Dead Heat’ didn’t sell——” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell ME why it didn’t sell,” said Champneys. “I wrote it!” + </p> + <p> + “That book,” declared Dolly loyally, “was never properly advertised. No + one knew about it, so no one bought it!” + </p> + <p> + “Eleven people bought it!” corrected the author. + </p> + <p> + “We will put it in a paper cover and sell it for fifty cents,” cried + Dolly. “It’s the best detective story I ever read, and people have got to + know it is the best. So we’ll advertise it like a breakfast food.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea,” interrupted Champneys, “is to make money, not throw it away. + Besides, we haven’t any to throw away. Dolly sighed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “If only,” she exclaimed, “we had that three thousand dollars back again! + I’d save SO carefully. It was all my fault. The races took it, but it was + I took you to the races.” + </p> + <p> + “No one ever had to drag ME to the races,” said Carter. “It was the way we + went that was extravagant. Automobiles by the hour standing idle, and a + box each day, and——” + </p> + <p> + “And always backing Dromedary,” suggested Dolly. Carter was touched on a + sensitive spot. “That horse,” he protested loudly, “is a mighty good + horse. Some day——” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what you always said,” remarked Dolly, “but he never seems to have + his day.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s strange,” said Champneys consciously. “I dreamed of Dromedary only + last night. Same dream over and over again.” Hastily he changed the + subject. + </p> + <p> + “For some reason I don’t sleep well. I don’t know why.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly looked at him with all the love in her eyes of a mother over her + ailing infant. + </p> + <p> + “It’s worrying over me, and the heat,”’ she said. “And the garage next + door, and the skyscraper going up across the street, might have something + to do with it. And YOU,” she mocked tenderly, “wanted to send me to the + sea-shore.” + </p> + <p> + Carter was frowning. As though about to speak, he opened his lips, and + then laughed embarrassedly. + </p> + <p> + “Out with it,” said Dolly, with an encouraging smile. “Did he win?” + </p> + <p> + Seeing she had read what was in his mind, Carter leaned forward eagerly. + The ruling passion and a touch of superstition held him in their grip. + </p> + <p> + “He ‘win’ each time,” he whispered. “I saw it as plain as I see you. Each + time he came up with a rush just at the same place, just as they entered + the stretch, and each time he won!” He slapped his hand disdainfully upon + the dirty bills before him. “If I had a hundred dollars!” + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door, and Carter opened it to the elevator boy + with the morning mail. The letters, save one, Carter dropped upon the + table. That one, with clumsy fingers, he tore open. He exclaimed + breathlessly: “It’s from PLYMPTON’S MAGAZINE! Maybe—I’ve sold a + story!” He gave a cry almost of alarm. His voice was as solemn as though + the letter had announced a death. + </p> + <p> + “Dolly,” he whispered, “it’s a check—a check for a HUNDRED DOLLARS!” + </p> + <p> + Guiltily, the two young people looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “We’ve GOT to!” breathed Dolly. “GOT to! If we let TWO signs like that + pass, we’d be flying in the face of Providence.” + </p> + <p> + With her hands gripping the arms of her chair, she leaned forward, her + eyes staring into space, her lips moving. + </p> + <p> + “COME ON, you Dromedary!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + They changed the check into five and ten dollar bills, and, as Carter was + far too excited to work, made an absurdly early start for the race-track. + </p> + <p> + “We might as well get all the fresh air we can,” said Dolly. “That’s all + we will get!” + </p> + <p> + From their reserve fund of twenty-seven dollars which each had solemnly + agreed with the other would not be risked on race-horses, Dolly subtracted + a two-dollar bill. This she stuck conspicuously across the face of the + clock on the mantel. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Carter. + </p> + <p> + “When we get back this evening,” Dolly explained, “that will be the first + thing we’ll see. It’s going to look awfully good!” + </p> + <p> + This day there was no scarlet car to rush them with refreshing swiftness + through Brooklyn’s parkways and along the Ocean Avenue. Instead, they hung + to a strap in a cross-town car, changed to the ferry, and again to the + Long Island Railroad. When Carter halted at the special car of the Turf + Club, Dolly took his arm and led him forward to the day coach. + </p> + <p> + “But,” protested Carter, “when you’re spending a hundred dollars with one + hand, why grudge fifty cents for a parlor-car seat? If you’re going to be + a sport, be a sport.” “And if you’ve got to be a piker,” said Dolly, + “don’t be ashamed to be a piker. We’re not spending a hundred dollars + because we can afford it, but because you dreamt a dream. You didn’t dream + you were riding in parlor-cars! If you did, it’s time I woke you.” + </p> + <p> + This day there was for them no box overlooking the finish, no club-house + luncheon. With the other pikers, they sat in the free seats, with those + who sat coatless and tucked their handkerchiefs inside their collars, and + with those who mopped their perspiring countenances with rice-paper and + marked their cards with a hat-pin. Their lunch consisted of a massive ham + sandwich with a top dressing of mustard. + </p> + <p> + Dromedary did not run until the fifth race, and the long wait, before they + could learn their fate, was intolerable. They knew most of the horses, + and, to pass the time, on each of the first races Dolly made imaginary + bets. Of these mental wagers, she lost every one. + </p> + <p> + “If you turn out to be as bad a guesser when you’re asleep as I am when + I’m awake,” said Dolly, “we’re going to lose our fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m weakening!” declared Carter. “A hundred dollars is beginning to look + to me like an awful lot of money. Twenty-seven dollars, and there’s only + twenty of that left now, is mighty small capital, but twenty dollars plus + a hundred could keep us alive for a month!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you, or did you not, dream that Dromedary would win?” demanded Dolly + sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly did, several times,” said Carter. “But it may be I was + thinking of the horse. I’ve lost such a lot on him, my mind may have——” + </p> + <p> + “Did you,” interrupted Dolly, “say if you had a hundred dollars you’d bet + it, and did a hundred dollars walk in through the door instantly?” + </p> + <p> + Carter, reassured, breathed again. “It certainly did!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Even in his proud days, Carter had never been able to bet heavily, and + instead of troubling the club-house commissioners with his small wagers, + he had, in the ring, bet ready money. Moreover, he believed in the ring he + obtained more favorable odds, and, when he won, it pleased him, instead of + waiting until settling day for a check, to stand in a line and feel the + real money thrust into his hand. So, when the fourth race started he rose + and raised his hat. + </p> + <p> + “The time has come,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Without looking at him, Dolly nodded. She was far too tremulous to speak. + </p> + <p> + For several weeks Dromedary had not been placed, and Carter hoped for odds + of at least ten to one. But, when he pushed his way into the arena, he + found so little was thought of his choice that as high as twenty to one + was being offered, and with few takers. The fact shattered his confidence. + Here were two hundred book-makers, trained to their calling, anxious at + absurd odds to back their opinion that the horse he liked could not win. + In the face of such unanimous contempt, his dream became fantastic, + fatuous. He decided he would risk only half of his fortune. Then, should + the horse win, he still would be passing rich, and should he lose, he + would, at least, have all of fifty dollars. + </p> + <p> + With a book-maker he wagered that sum, and then, in unhappy indecision, + stood, in one hand clutching his ticket that called for a potential + thousand and fifty dollars, and in the other an actual fifty. It was not a + place for meditation. From every side men, more or less sane, swept upon + him, jostled him, and stamped upon him, and still, struggling for a + foothold, he swayed, hesitating. Then he became conscious that the ring + was nearly empty, that only a few shrieking individuals still ran down the + line. The horses were going to the post. He must decide quickly. In front + of him the book-maker cleaned his board, and, as a final appeal, opposite + the names of three horses chalked thirty to one. Dromedary was among them. + Such odds could not be resisted. Carter shoved his fifty at the man, and + to that sum added the twenty dollars still in his pocket. They were the + last dollars he owned in the world. And though he knew they were his last, + he was fearful lest the book-maker would refuse them. But, mechanically, + the man passed them over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “And twenty-one hundred to seventy,” he chanted. + </p> + <p> + When Carter took his seat beside Dolly, he was quite cold. Still, Dolly + did not speak. Out of the corner of her eyes she questioned him. + </p> + <p> + “I got fifty at twenty to one,” replied Carter, “and seventy at thirty!” + </p> + <p> + In alarm, Dolly turned upon him. + </p> + <p> + “SEVENTY!” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + Carter nodded. “All we have,” he said. “We have sixty cents left, to start + life over again!” + </p> + <p> + As though to encourage him, Dolly placed her finger on her race-card. + </p> + <p> + “His colors,” she said, “are ‘green cap, green jacket, green and white + hoops.’” + </p> + <p> + Through a maze of heat, a half-mile distant, at the starting-gate, little + spots of color moved in impatient circles. The big, good-natured crowd had + grown silent, so silent that from the high, sun-warmed grass in the + infield one could hear the lazy chirp of the crickets. As though repeating + a prayer, or an incantation, Dolly’s lips were moving quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Green cap,” she whispered, “green jacket, green and white hoops!” + </p> + <p> + With a sharp sigh the crowd broke the silence. “They’re off!” it cried, + and leaned forward expectant. + </p> + <p> + The horses came so fast. To Carter their conduct seemed outrageous. It was + incredible that in so short a time, at a pace so reckless, they would + decide a question of such moment. They came bunched together, shifting and + changing, with, through the dust, flashes of blue and gold and scarlet. A + jacket of yellow shot out of the dust and showed in front; a jacket of + crimson followed. So they were at the half; so they were at the + three-quarters. + </p> + <p> + The good-natured crowd began to sway, to grumble and murmur, then to shout + in sharp staccato. + </p> + <p> + “Can you see him?” begged Dolly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Carter. “You don’t see him until they reach the stretch.” + </p> + <p> + One could hear their hoofs, could see the crimson jockey draw his whip. At + the sight, for he rode the favorite, the crowd gave a great gasp of + concern. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you Gold Heels!” it implored. + </p> + <p> + Under the whip, Gold Heels drew even with the yellow jacket; stride by + stride, they fought it out alone. + </p> + <p> + “Gold Heels!” cried the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Behind them, in a curtain of dust, pounded the field. It charged in a + flying wedge, like a troop of cavalry. Dolly, searching for a green + jacket, saw, instead, a rainbow wave of color that, as it rose and fell, + sprang toward her in great leaps, swallowing the track. + </p> + <p> + “Gold Heels!” yelled the crowd. + </p> + <p> + The field swept into the stretch. Without moving his eyes, Carter caught + Dolly by the wrist and pointed. As though giving a signal, he shot his + free hand into the air. + </p> + <p> + “Now!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + From the curtain of dust, as lightning strikes through a cloud, darted a + great, raw-boned, ugly chestnut. Like the Empire Express, he came rocking, + thundering, spurning the ground. At his coming, Gold Heels, to the eyes of + the crowd, seemed to falter, to slacken, to stand still. The crowd gave a + great cry of amazement, a yell of disgust. The chestnut drew even with + Gold Heels, passed him, and swept under the wire. Clinging to his neck was + a little jockey in a green cap, green jacket, and hoops of green and + white. + </p> + <p> + Dolly’s hand was at her side, clutching the bench. Carter’s hand still + clasped it. Neither spoke or looked at the other. For an instant, while + the crowd, no longer so good-natured, mocked and jeered at itself, the two + young people sat quite still, staring at the green field, at the white + clouds rolling from the ocean. Dolly drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go!” she gasped. “Let’s thank him first, and then take me home!” + </p> + <p> + They found Dromedary in the paddock, and thanked him, and Carter left + Dolly with him, while he ran to collect his winnings. When he returned, he + showed her a sheaf of yellow bills, and as they ran down the covered board + walk to the gate, they skipped and danced. + </p> + <p> + Dolly turned toward the train drawn up at the entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Not with me!” shouted Carter. “We’re going home in the reddest, most + expensive, fastest automobile I can hire!” + </p> + <p> + In the “hack” line of motor-cars was one that answered those requirements, + and they fell into it as though it were their own. + </p> + <p> + “To the Night and Day Bank!” commanded Carter. + </p> + <p> + With the genial democracy of the race-track, the chauffeur lifted his head + to grin appreciatively. “That listens good to me!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I like him!” whispered Dolly. “Let’s buy him and the car.” + </p> + <p> + On the way home, they bought many cars; every car they saw, that they + liked, they bought. They bought, also, several houses, and a yacht that + they saw from the ferry-boat. And as soon as they had deposited the most + of their money in the bank, they went to a pawnshop in Sixth Avenue and + bought back many possessions that they had feared they never would see + again. + </p> + <p> + When they entered the flat, the thing they first beheld was Dolly’s + two-dollar bill. + </p> + <p> + “What,” demanded Carter, with repugnance, “is that strange piece of + paper?” + </p> + <p> + Dolly examined it carefully. “I think it is a kind of money,” she said, + “used by the lower classes.” + </p> + <p> + They dined on the roof at Delmonico’s. Dolly wore the largest of the five + hats still unsold, and Carter selected the dishes entirely according to + which was the most expensive. Every now and again they would look + anxiously down across the street at the bank that held their money. They + were nervous lest it should take fire. + </p> + <p> + “We can be extravagant to-night,” said Dolly, “because we owe it to + Dromedary to celebrate. But from to-night on we must save. We’ve had an + awful lesson. What happened to us last month must never happen again. We + were down to a two-dollar bill. Now we have twenty-five hundred across the + street, and you have several hundreds in your pocket. On that we can live + easily for a year. Meanwhile, you can write ‘the’ great American novel + without having to worry about money, or to look for a steady job. And then + your book will come out, and you will be famous, and rich, and——” + </p> + <p> + “Passing on from that,” interrupted Carter, “the thing of first importance + is to get you out of that hot, beastly flat. I propose we start to-morrow + for Cape Cod. I know a lot of fishing villages there where we could board + and lodge for twelve dollars a week, and row and play tennis and live in + our bathing suits.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly assented with enthusiasm, and during the courses of the dinner they + happily discussed Cape Cod from Pocasset to Yarmouth, and from Sandwich to + Provincetown. So eager were they to escape, that Carter telephoned the + hallman at his club to secure a cabin for the next afternoon on the Fall + River boat. As they sat over their coffee in the cool breeze, with, in the + air, the scent of flowers and the swing of music, and with, at their feet, + the lights of the great city, the world seemed very bright. + </p> + <p> + “It has been a great day,” sighed Carter. “And if I hadn’t had nervous + prostration I would have enjoyed it. That race-course is always cool, and + there were some fine finishes. I noticed two horses that would bear + watching, Her Highness and Glowworm. If we weren’t leaving to-morrow, I’d + be inclined——” Dolly regarded him with eyes of horror. + </p> + <p> + “Champneys Carter!” she exclaimed. As she said it, it sounded like “Great + Jehoshaphat!” + </p> + <p> + Carter protested indignantly. “I only said,” he explained, “if I were + following the races, I’d watch those horses. Don’t worry!” he exclaimed. + “I know when to stop.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning they took breakfast on the tiny terrace of a restaurant + overlooking Bryant Park, where, during the first days of their honeymoon, + they had always breakfasted. For sentimental reasons they now revisited + it. But Dolly was eager to return at once to the flat and pack, and Carter + seemed distraught. He explained that he had had a bad night. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry,” sympathized Dolly, “but to-night you will have a fine + sleep going up the Sound. Any more nightmares?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nightmares!” exploded Carter fiercely. “Nightmares they certainly were! I + dreamt two of the nightmares won! I saw them, all night, just as I saw + Dromedary, Her Highness and Glowworm, winning, winning, winning!” + </p> + <p> + “Those were the horses you spoke about last night,” said Dolly severely. + “After so wonderful a day, of course you dreamt of racing, and those two + horses were in your mind. That’s the explanation.” + </p> + <p> + They returned to the flat and began, industriously, to pack. About twelve + o’clock Carter, coming suddenly into the bedroom where Dolly was alone, + found her reading the MORNING TELEGRAPH. It was open at the racing page of + “past performances.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped the paper guiltily. Carter kicked a hat-box out of his way and + sat down on a trunk. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” declared Dolly, “if they SHOULD win, you’ll always blame ME!” + Carter’s eyes shone hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued Dolly, “I can’t bear to have you blame me. So——” + </p> + <p> + “Get your hat!” shouted Carter, “or we’ll miss the first race.” + </p> + <p> + Carter telephoned for a cab, and as they were entering it said guiltily: + “I’ve got to stop at the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If my dreams come true,” warned Carter, “you’ll be awfully sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” said Dolly. “I’ll merely send you to bed, and you can go on + dreaming.” + </p> + <p> + When Her Highness romped home, an easy winner, the look Dolly turned upon + her husband was one both of fear and dismay. + </p> + <p> + “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,” she + cried, “if only I had let you bet all you had with you!” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” stammered Carter, in extreme agitation. “I bet four hundred. I + got five to one, Dolly,” he gasped, in awe; “we’ve won two thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly exclaimed rapturously: “We’ll put it all in bank,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll put it all on Glowworm!” said her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Champ!” begged Dolly. “Don’t push your luck. Stop while——” + Carter shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “It’s NOT luck!” he growled. “It’s a gift, it’s second sight, it’s + prophecy. I’ve been a full-fledged clairvoyant all my life, and didn’t + know it. Anyway, I’m a sport, and after two of my dreams breaking right, + I’ve got to back the third one!” + </p> + <p> + Glowworm was at ten to one, and at those odds the book-makers to whom he + first applied did not care to take so large a sum as he offered. Carter + found a book-maker named “Sol” Burbank who, at those odds, accepted his + two thousand. + </p> + <p> + When Carter returned to collect his twenty-two thousand, there was some + little delay while Burbank borrowed a portion of it. He looked at Carter + curiously and none too genially. + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t it you,” he asked, “that had that thirty-to-one shot yesterday on + Dromedary?” Carter nodded somewhat guiltily. A man in the crowd + volunteered: “And he had Her Highness in the second, too, for four + hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve made a good day,” said Burbank. “Give me a chance to get my money + back to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry,” said Carter. “I’m leaving New York to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The same scarlet car bore them back triumphant to the bank. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-two thousand dollars?” gasped Carter, “in CASH! How in the name of + all that’s honest can we celebrate winning twenty-two thousand dollars? We + can’t eat more than one dinner; we can’t drink more than two quarts of + champagne—not without serious results.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you what we can do!” cried Dolly excitedly. “We can sail + to-morrow on the CAMPANIA!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” shouted Carter. “We’ll have a second honey-moon. We’ll shoot up + London and Paris. We’ll tear slices out of the map of Europe. You’ll ride + in one motor-car, I’ll ride in another, we’ll have a maid and a valet in a + third, and we’ll race each other all the way to Monte Carlo. And, there, + I’ll dream of the winning numbers, and we’ll break the bank. When does the + CAMPANIA sail?” + </p> + <p> + “At noon,” said Dolly. + </p> + <p> + “At eight we will be on board,” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + But that night in his dreams he saw King Pepper, Confederate, and Red Wing + each win a race. And in the morning neither the engines of the CAMPANIA + nor the entreaties of Dolly could keep him from the race-track. + </p> + <p> + “I want only six thousand,” he protested. “You can do what you like with + the rest, but I am going to bet six thousand on the first one of those + three to start. If he loses, I give you my word I’ll not bet another cent, + and we’ll sail on Saturday. If he wins Out, I’ll put all I make on the two + others.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you see,” begged Dolly, “that your dreams are just a rehash of what + you think during the day? You have been playing in wonderful luck, that’s + all. Each of those horses is likely to win his race. When he does you will + have more faith than ever in your silly dreams——” + </p> + <p> + “My silly dreams,” said Carter grinning, “are carrying you to Europe, + first class, by the next steamer.” + </p> + <p> + They had been talking while on their way to the bank. When Dolly saw she + could not alter his purpose, she made him place the nineteen thousand that + remained, after he had taken out the six thousand, in her name. She then + drew out the entire amount. + </p> + <p> + “You told me,” said Dolly, smiling anxiously, “I could do what I liked + with it. Maybe I have dreams also. Maybe I mean to back them.” + </p> + <p> + She drove away, mysteriously refusing to tell him what she intended to do. + When they met at luncheon, she was still much excited, still bristling + with a concealed secret. + </p> + <p> + “Did you back your dream?” asked Carter. + </p> + <p> + Dolly nodded happily. + </p> + <p> + “And when am I to know?” + </p> + <p> + “You will read of it,” said Dolly, “to-morrow, in the morning papers. It’s + all quite correct. My lawyers arranged it.” + </p> + <p> + “Lawyers!” gasped her husband. “You’re not arranging to lock me in a + private madhouse, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” laughed Dolly; “but when I told them how I intended to invest the + money they came near putting me there.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t they want to know how you suddenly got so rich?” asked Carter. + </p> + <p> + “They did. I told them it came from my husband’s ‘books’! It was a very + ‘near’ false-hood.” + </p> + <p> + “It was worse,” said Carter. “It was a very poor pun.” + </p> + <p> + As in their honey-moon days they drove proudly to the track, and when + Carter had placed Dolly in a box large enough for twenty, he pushed his + way into the crowd around the stand of “Sol” Burbank. That veteran of the + turf welcomed him gladly. + </p> + <p> + “Coming to give me my money back?” he called. + </p> + <p> + “No, to take some away,” said Carter, handing him his six thousand. + </p> + <p> + Without apparently looking at it, Burbank passed it to his cashier. “King + Pepper, twelve to six thousand,” he called. + </p> + <p> + When King Pepper won, and Carter moved around the ring with eighteen + thousand dollars in thousand and five hundred dollar bills in his fist, he + found himself beset by a crowd of curious, eager “pikers.” They both + impeded his operations and acted as a body-guard. Confederate was an + almost prohibitive favorite at one to three, and in placing eighteen + thousand that he might win six, Carter found little difficulty. When + Confederate won, and he started with his twenty-four thousand to back Red + Wing, the crowd now engulfed him. Men and boys who when they wagered five + and ten dollars were risking their all, found in the sight of a young man + offering bets in hundreds and thousands a thrilling and fascinating + spectacle. + </p> + <p> + To learn what horse he was playing and at what odds, racing touts and + runners for other book-makers and individual speculators leaped into the + mob that surrounded him, and then, squirming their way out, ran shrieking + down the line. In ten minutes, through the bets of Carter and those that + backed his luck, the odds against Red Wing were forced down from fifteen + to one to even money. His approach was hailed by the book-makers either + with jeers or with shouts of welcome. Those who had lost demanded a chance + to regain their money. Those with whom he had not bet, found in that fact + consolation, and chaffed the losers. Some curtly refused even the smallest + part of his money. + </p> + <p> + “Not with me!” they laughed. From stand to stand the layers of odds + taunted him, or each other. “Don’t touch it, it’s tainted!” they shouted. + “Look out, Joe, he’s the Jonah man?” Or, “Come at me again!” they called. + “And, once more!” they challenged as they reached for a thousand-dollar + bill. + </p> + <p> + And, when in time, each shook his head and grumbled: “That’s all I want,” + or looked the other way, the mob around Carter jeered. + </p> + <p> + “He’s fought ‘em to a stand-still!” they shouted jubilantly. In their eyes + a man who alone was able and willing to wipe the name of a horse off the + blackboards was a hero. + </p> + <p> + To the horror of Dolly, instead of watching the horses parade past, the + crowd gathered in front of her box and pointed and stared at her. From the + club-house her men friends and acquaintances invaded it. + </p> + <p> + “Has Carter gone mad?” they demanded. “He’s dealing out thousand-dollar + bills like cigarettes. He’s turned the ring into a wheat Pit!” + </p> + <p> + When he reached the box a sun-burned man in a sombrero blocked his way. + </p> + <p> + “I’m the owner of Red Wing,” he explained, “bred him and trained him + myself. I know he’ll be lucky if he gets the place. You’re backing him in + thousands to WIN. What do you know about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Know he will win,” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + The veteran commissioner of the club stand buttonholed him. “Mr. Carter,” + he begged, “why don’t you bet through me? I’ll give you as good odds as + they will in that ring. You don’t want your clothes torn off you and your + money taken from you.” + </p> + <p> + “They haven’t taken such a lot of it yet,” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + When Red Wing won, the crowd beneath the box, the men in the box, and the + people standing around it, most of whom had followed Carter’s plunge, + cheered and fell over him, to shake hands and pound him on the back. From + every side excited photographers pointed cameras, and Lander’s band + played: “Every Little Bit Added to What You’ve Got Makes Just a Little Bit + More.” As he left the box to collect his money, a big man with a brown + mustache and two smooth-shaven giants closed in around him, as tackles + interfere for the man who has the ball. The big man took him by the arm. + Carter shook himself free. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the idea?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I’m Pinkerton,” said the big man genially. “You need a body-guard. If + you’ve got an empty seat in your car, I’ll drive home with you. From + Cavanaugh they borrowed a book-maker’s hand-bag and stuffed it with + thousand-dollar bills. When they stepped into the car the crowd still + surrounded them. + </p> + <p> + “He’s taking it home in a trunk!” they yelled. + </p> + <p> + That night the “sporting extras” of the afternoon papers gave prominence + to the luck at the races of Champneys Carter. From Cavanaugh and the + book-makers, the racing reporters had gathered accounts of his winnings. + They stated that in three successive days, starting with one hundred + dollars, he had at the end of the third day not lost a single bet, and + that afternoon, on the last race alone, he had won sixty to seventy + thousand dollars. With the text, they “ran” pictures of Carter at the + track, of Dolly in her box, and of Mrs. Ingram in a tiara and ball-dress. + </p> + <p> + Mother-in-law WILL be pleased cried Carter. In some alarm as to what the + newspapers might say on the morrow, he ordered that in the morning a copy + of each be sent to his room. That night in his dreams he saw clouds of + dust-covered jackets and horses with sweating flanks, and one of them + named Ambitious led all the rest. When he woke, he said to Dolly: “That + horse Ambitious will win to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “He can do just as he likes about THAT!” replied Dolly. “I have something + on my mind much more important than horse-racing. To-day you are to learn + how I spent your money. It’s to be in the morning papers.” + </p> + <p> + When he came to breakfast, Dolly was on her knees. For his inspection she + had spread the newspapers on the floor, opened at an advertisement that + appeared in each. In the Centre of a half-page of white paper were the + lines: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SOLD OUT IN ONE DAY! + + ENTIRE FIRST EDITION + + THE DEAD HEAT + + BY + + CHAMPNEYS CARTER + + SECOND EDITION ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND +</pre> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name!” roared Carter. “What does this mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It means,” cried Dolly tremulously, “I’m backing my dream. I’ve always + believed in your book. Now, I’m backing it. Our lawyers sent me to an + advertising agent. His name is Spink, and he is awfully clever. I asked + him if he could advertise a book so as to make it sell. He said with my + money and his ideas he could sell last year’s telephone book to people who + did not own a telephone, and who had never learned to read. He is proud of + his ideas. One of them was buying out the first edition. Your publishers + told him your book was ‘waste paper,’ and that he could have every copy in + stock for the cost of the plates. So he bought the whole edition. That’s + how it was sold out in one day. Then we ordered a second edition of one + hundred thousand, and they’re printing it now. + </p> + <p> + “The presses have been working all night to meet the demand!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” cried Carter, “there isn’t any demand!” + </p> + <p> + “There will be,” said Dolly, “when five million people read our + advertisements.” + </p> + <p> + She dragged him to the window and pointed triumphantly into the street. + </p> + <p> + “See that!” she said. “Mr. Spink sent them here for me to inspect.” + </p> + <p> + Drawn up in a line that stretched from Fifth Avenue to Broadway were an + army of sandwich men. On the boards they carried were the words: “Read + ‘The Dead Heat.’ Second Edition. One Hundred Thousand!” On the fence in + front of the building going up across the street, in letters a foot high, + Carter again read the name of his novel. In letters in size more modest, + but in colors more defiant, it glared at him from ash-cans and barrels. + </p> + <p> + “How much does this cost?” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “It cost every dollar you had in bank,” said Dolly, “and before we are + through it will cost you twice as much more. Mr. Spink is only waiting to + hear from me before he starts spending fifty thousand dollars; that’s only + half of what you won on Red Wing. I’m only waiting for you to make me out + a check before I tell Spink to start spending it.” + </p> + <p> + In a dazed state Carter drew a check for fifty thousand dollars and meekly + handed it to his wife. They carried it themselves to the office of Mr. + Spink. On their way, on every side they saw evidences of his handiwork. On + walls, on scaffolding, on bill-boards were advertisements of “The Dead + Heat.” Over Madison Square a huge kite as large as a Zeppelin air-ship + painted the name of the book against the sky, on “dodgers” it floated in + the air, on handbills it stared up from the gutters. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Spink was a nervous young man with a bald head and eye-glasses. He + grasped the check as a general might welcome fifty thousand fresh troops. + </p> + <p> + “Reinforcements!” he cried. “Now, watch me. Now I can do things that are + big, national, Napoleonic. We can’t get those books bound inside of a + week, but meanwhile orders will be pouring in, people will be growing + crazy for it. Every man, woman, and child in Greater New York will want a + copy. I’ve sent out fifty boys dressed as jockeys on horseback to ride + neck and neck up and down every avenue. ‘The Dead Heat’ is printed on the + saddle-cloth. Half of them have been arrested already. It’s a little idea + of my own.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” protested Carter, “it’s not a racing story, it’s a detective + story!” + </p> + <p> + “The devil it is!” gasped Spink. “But what’s the difference!” he + exclaimed. “They’ve got to buy it anyway. They’d buy it if it was a + cook-book. And, I say,” he cried delightedly, “that’s great press work + you’re doing for the book at the races! The papers are full of you this + morning, and every man who reads about your luck at the track will see + your name as the author of ‘The Dead Heat,’ and will rush to buy the book. + He’ll think ‘The Dead Heat’ is a guide to the turf!” + </p> + <p> + When Carter reached the track he found his notoriety had preceded him. + Ambitious did not run until the fourth race, and until then, as he sat in + his box, an eager crowd surged below. He had never known such popularity. + The crowd had read the newspapers, and such head-lines as “He Cannot + Lose!” “Young Carter Wins $70,000!” “Boy Plunger Wins Again!” “Carter + Makes Big Killing!” “The Ring Hit Hard!” “The Man Who Cannot Lose!” + “Carter Beats Book-makers!” had whetted their curiosity and filled many + with absolute faith in his luck. Men he had not seen in years grasped him + by the hand and carelessly asked if he could tell of something good. + Friends old and new begged him to dine with them, to immediately have a + drink with them, at least to “try” a cigar. Men who protested they had + lost their all begged for just a hint which would help them to come out + even, and every one, without exception, assured him he was going to buy + his latest book. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to get it last night at a dozen news-stands,” many of them said, + “but they told me the entire edition was exhausted.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd of hungry-eyed race-goers waiting below the box, and watching + Carter’s every movement, distressed Dolly. + </p> + <p> + “I hate it!” she cried. “They look at you like a lot of starved dogs + begging for a bone. Let’s go home; we don’t want to make any more money, + and we may lose what we have. And I want it all to advertise the book.” + </p> + <p> + “If you’re not careful,” said Carter, “some one will buy that book and + read it, and then you and Spink will have to take shelter in a cyclone + cellar.” + </p> + <p> + When he arose to make his bet on Ambitious, his friends from the club + stand and a half-dozen of Pinkerton’s men closed in around him and in a + flying wedge pushed into the ring. The news-papers had done their work, + and he was instantly surrounded by a hungry, howling mob. In comparison + with the one of the previous day, it was as a foot-ball scrimmage to a run + on a bank. When he made his first wager and the crowd learned the name of + the horse, it broke with a yell into hundreds of flying missiles which + hurled themselves at the book-makers. Under their attack, as on the day + before, Ambitious receded to even money. There was hardly a person at the + track who did not back the luck of the man who “could not lose.” And when + Ambitious won easily, it was not the horse or the jockey that was cheered, + but the young man in the box. + </p> + <p> + In New York the extras had already announced that he was again lucky, and + when Dolly and Carter reached the bank they found the entire staff on hand + to receive him and his winnings. They amounted to a sum so magnificent + that Carter found for the rest of their lives the interest would furnish + Dolly and himself an income upon which they could live modestly and well. + </p> + <p> + A distinguished-looking, white-haired official of the bank congratulated + Carter warmly. “Should you wish to invest some of this,” he said, “I + should be glad to advise you. My knowledge in that direction may be wider + than your own.” + </p> + <p> + Carter murmured his thanks. The white-haired gentleman lowered his voice. + “On certain other subjects,” he continued, “you know many things of which + I am totally ignorant. Could you tell me,” he asked carelessly, “who will + win the Suburban to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + Carter frowned mysteriously. “I can tell you better in the morning,” he + said. “It looks like Beldame, with Proper and First Mason within call.” + </p> + <p> + The white-haired man showed his surprise and also that his ignorance was + not as profound as he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I thought the Keene entry——” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Carter doubtfully. “If it were for a mile, I would say + Delhi, but I don’t think he can last the distance. In the morning I’ll + wire you.” + </p> + <p> + As they settled back in their car, Carter took both of Dolly’s hands in + his. “So far as money goes,” he said, “we are independent of your mother—independent + of my books; and I want to make you a promise. I want to promise you that, + no matter what I dream in the future, I’ll never back another horse.” + Dolly gave a gasp of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “And what’s more,” added Carter hastily, “not another dollar can you risk + in backing my books. After this, they’ve got to stand or fall on their + legs!” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed!” cried Dolly. “Our plunging days are over.” + </p> + <p> + When they reached the flat they found waiting for Carter the junior + partner of a real publishing house. He had a blank contract, and he wanted + to secure the right to publish Carter’s next book. + </p> + <p> + “I have a few short stories——” suggested Carter. + </p> + <p> + Collections of short stories, protested the visitor truthfully, “do not + sell. We would prefer another novel on the same lines as ‘The Dead Heat.’” + </p> + <p> + “Have you read ‘The Dead Heat’?” asked Carter. + </p> + <p> + “I have not,” admitted the publisher, “but the next book by the same + author is sure to——. We will pay in advance of royalties + fifteen thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you put that in writing?” asked Carter. When the publisher was + leaving he said: + </p> + <p> + “I see your success in literature is equaled by your success at the races. + Could you tell me what will win the Suburban?” + </p> + <p> + “I will send you a wire in the MORNING,” said Carter. + </p> + <p> + They had arranged to dine with some friends and later to visit a musical + comedy. Carter had changed his clothes, and, while he was waiting for + Dolly to dress, was reclining in a huge arm-chair. The heat of the day, + the excitement, and the wear on his nerves caused his head to sink back, + his eyes to close, and his limbs to relax. + </p> + <p> + When, by her entrance, Dolly woke him, he jumped up in some confusion. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve been asleep,” she mocked. + </p> + <p> + “Worse!” said Carter. “I’ve been dreaming! Shall I tell you who is going + to win the Suburban?” + </p> + <p> + “Champneys!” cried Dolly in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Dolly,” protested her husband, “I promised to stop betting. I did + not promise to stop sleeping.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” sighed Dolly, with relief, “as long as it stops at that. Delhi + will win,” she added. “Delhi will not,” said Carter. “This is how they + will finish——” He scribbled three names on a piece of paper + which Dolly read. + </p> + <p> + “But that,” she said, “is what you told the gentleman at the bank.” + </p> + <p> + Carter stared at her blankly and in some embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “You see!” cried Dolly, “what you think when you’re awake, you dream when + you’re asleep. And you had a run of luck that never happened before and + could never happen again.” + </p> + <p> + Carter received her explanation with reluctance. “I wonder,” he said. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the theatre they found their host had reserved a stage-box, + and as there were but four in their party, and as, when they entered, the + house lights were up, their arrival drew upon them the attention both of + those in the audience and of those on the stage. The theatre was crowded + to its capacity, and in every part were people who were habitual + race-goers, as well as many racing men who had come to town for the + Suburban. By these, as well as by many others who for three days had seen + innumerable pictures of him, Carter was instantly recognized. To the + audience and to the performers the man who always won was of far greater + interest than what for the three-hundredth night was going forward on the + stage. And when the leading woman, Blanche Winter, asked the comedian + which he would rather be, “The Man Who Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo or + the Man Who Can Not Lose?” she gained from the audience an easy laugh and + from the chorus an excited giggle. + </p> + <p> + When, at the end of the act, Carter went into the lobby to smoke, he was + so quickly surrounded that he sought refuge on Broadway. From there, the + crowd still following him, he was driven back into his box. Meanwhile, the + interest shown in him had not been lost upon the press agent of the + theatre, and he at once telephoned to the newspaper offices that Plunger + Carter, the book-maker breaker, was at that theatre, and if that the + newspapers wanted a chance to interview him on the probable out-come of + the classic handicap to be run on the morrow, he, the press agent, would + unselfishly assist them. In answer to these hurry calls, reporters of the + Ten o’Clock Club assembled in the foyer. How far what later followed was + due to their presence and to the efforts of the press agent only that + gentleman can tell. It was in the second act that Miss Blanche Winter sang + her topical song. In it she advised the audience when anxious to settle + any question of personal or national interest to “Put it up to the Man in + the Moon.’” This night she introduced a verse in which she told of her + desire to know which horse on the morrow would win the Suburban, and, in + the chorus, expressed her determination to “Put it up to the Man in the + Moon.” + </p> + <p> + Instantly from the back of the house a voice called: “Why don’t you put it + up to the Man in the Box?” Miss Winter laughed—the audience laughed; all + eyes were turned toward Carter. As though the idea pleased them, from + different parts of the house people applauded heartily. In embarrassment, + Carter shoved back his chair and pulled the curtain of the box between him + and the audience. But he was not so easily to escape. Leaving the + orchestra to continue unheeded with the prelude to the next verse, Miss + Winter walked slowly and deliberately toward him, smiling mischievously. + In burlesque entreaty, she held out her arms. She made a most appealing + and charming picture, and of that fact she was well aware. In a voice loud + enough to reach every part of the house, she addressed herself to Carter: + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you tell ME?” she begged. + </p> + <p> + Carter, blushing unhappily, shrugged his shoulders in apology. + </p> + <p> + With a wave of her hand Miss Winter designated the audience. “Then,” she + coaxed, reproachfully, “won’t you tell THEM?” + </p> + <p> + Again, instantly, with a promptness and unanimity that sounded + suspiciously as though it came from ushers well rehearsed, several voice + echoed her petition: “Give us all a chance!” shouted one. “Don’t keep the + good things to yourself!” reproached another. “I want to get rich, TOO!” + wailed a third. In his heart, Carter prayed they would choke. But the + audience, so far from resenting the interruptions, encouraged them, and + Carter’s obvious discomfort added to its amusement. It proceeded to assail + him with applause, with appeals, with commands to “speak up.” + </p> + <p> + The hand-clapping became general—insistent. The audience would not be + denied. Carter turned to Dolly. In the recesses of the box she was + enjoying his predicament. His friends also were laughing at him. Indignant + at their desertion, Carter grinned vindictively. “All right,” he muttered + over his shoulder. “Since you think it’s funny, I’ll show you!” He pulled + his pencil from his watch-chain and, spreading his programme on the ledge + of the box, began to write. + </p> + <p> + From the audience there rose a murmur of incredulity, of surprise, of + excited interest. In the rear of the house the press agent, after one + startled look, doubled up in an ecstasy of joy. “We’ve landed him!” he + gasped. “We’ve landed him. He’s going to fall for it!” + </p> + <p> + Dolly frantically clasped her husband by the coat-tail. + </p> + <p> + “Champ!” she implored, “what are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + Quite calmly, quite confidently, Carter rose. Leaning forward with a nod + and a smile, he presented the programme to the beautiful Miss Winter. That + lady all but snatched at it. The spot-light was full in her eyes. Turning + her back that she might the more easily read, she stood for a moment, her + pretty figure trembling with eagerness, her pretty eyes bent upon the + programme. The house had grown suddenly still, and with an excited + gesture, the leader of the orchestra commanded the music to silence. A man, + bursting with impatience, broke the tense quiet. “Read it!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + In a frightened voice that in the sudden hush held none of its usual + confidence, Miss Winter read slowly: “The favorite cannot last the + distance. Will lead for the mile and give way to Beldame. Proper takes the + place. First Mason will show. Beldame will win by a length.” + </p> + <p> + Before she had ceased reading, a dozen men had struggled to their feet and + a hundred voice were roaring at her. “Read that again!” the chorused. Once + more Miss Winter read the message, but before she had finished half of + those in the front rows were scrambling from their seats and racing up the + aisles. Already the reporters were ahead of them, and in the neighborhood + not one telephone booth was empty. Within five minutes, in those hotels + along the White Way where sporting men are wont to meet, betting + commissioners and hand-book men were suddenly assaulted by breathless + gentlemen, some in evening dress, some without collars, and some without + hats, but all with money to bet against the favorite. And, an hour later, + men, bent under stacks of newspaper “extras,” were vomited from the subway + stations into the heart of Broadway, and in raucous tones were shrieking, + “Winner of the Suburban,” sixteen hours before that race was run. That + night to every big newspaper office from Maine to California, was flashed + the news that Plunger Carter, in a Broadway theatre, had announced that + the favorite for the Suburban would be beaten, and, in order, had named + the three horses that would first finish. + </p> + <p> + Up and down Broadway, from rathskellers to roof-gardens, in cafes and + lobster palaces, on the corners of the cross-roads, in clubs and all-night + restaurants, Carter’s tip was as a red rag to a bull. + </p> + <p> + Was the boy drunk, they demanded, or had his miraculous luck turned his + head? Otherwise, why would he so publicly utter a prophecy that on the + morrow must certainly smother him with ridicule. The explanations were + varied. The men in the clubs held he was driven by a desire for notoriety, + the men in the street that he was more clever than they guessed, and had + made the move to suit his own book, to alter the odds to his own + advantage. Others frowned mysteriously. With superstitious faith in his + luck, they pointed to his record. “Has he ever lost a bet? How do WE know + what HE knows?” they demanded. “Perhaps it’s fixed and he knows it!” + </p> + <p> + The “wise” ones howled in derision. “A Suburban FIXED!” they retorted. + “You can fix ONE jockey, you can fix TWO; but you can’t fix sixteen + jockeys! You can’t fix Belmont, you can’t fix Keene. There’s nothing in + his picking Beldame, but only a crazy man would pick the horse for the + place and to show, and shut out the favorite! The boy ought to be in + Matteawan.” + </p> + <p> + Still undisturbed, still confident to those to whom he had promised them, + Carter sent a wire. Nor did he forget his old enemy, “Sol” Burbank. “If + you want to get some of the money I took,” he telegraphed, “wipe out the + Belmont entry and take all they offer on Delhi. He cannot win.” + </p> + <p> + And that night, when each newspaper called him up at his flat, he made the + same answer. “The three horses will finish as I said. You can state that I + gave the information as I did as a sort of present to the people of New + York City.” + </p> + <p> + In the papers the next morning “Carter’s Tip” was the front-page feature. + Even those who never in the racing of horses felt any concern could not + help but take in the outcome of this one a curious interest. The audacity + of the prophecy, the very absurdity of it, presupposing, as it did, occult + power, was in itself amusing. And when the curtain rose on the Suburban it + was evident that to thousands what the Man Who Could Not Lose had foretold + was a serious and inspired utterance. + </p> + <p> + This time his friends gathered around him, not to benefit by his advice, + but to protect him. “They’ll mob you!” they warned. “They’ll tear the + clothes off your back. Better make your getaway now.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly, with tears in her eyes, sat beside him. Every now and again she + touched his hand. Below his box, as around a newspaper office on the night + when a president is elected, the people crushed in a turbulent mob. Some + mocked and jeered, some who on his tip had risked their every dollar, + hailed him hopefully. On every side policemen, fearful of coming trouble, + hemmed him in. Carter was bored extremely, heartily sorry he had on the + night before given way to what he now saw as a perverse impulse. But he + still was confident, still undismayed. + </p> + <p> + To all eyes, except those of Dolly, he was of all those at the track the + least concerned. To her he turned and, in a low tone, spoke swiftly. “I am + so sorry,” he begged. “But, indeed, indeed, I can’t lose. You must have + faith in me.” + </p> + <p> + “In you, yes,” returned Dolly in a whisper, “but in your dreams, no!” + </p> + <p> + The horses were passing on their way to the post. Carter brought his face + close to hers. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to break my promise,” he said, “and make one more bet, this one + with you. I bet you a kiss that I’m right.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly, holding back her tears, smiled mournfully. “Make it a hundred,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + Half of the forty thousand at the track had backed Delhi, the other half, + following Carter’s luck and his confidence in proclaiming his convictions, + had backed Beldame. Many hundred had gone so far as to bet that the three + horses he had named would finish as he had foretold. But, in spite of + Carter’s tip, Delhi still was the favorite, and when the thousands saw the + Keene polka-dots leap to the front, and by two lengths stay there, for the + quarter, the half, and for the three-quarters, the air was shattered with + jubilant, triumphant yells. And then suddenly, with the swiftness of a + moving picture, in the very moment of his victory, Beldame crept up on the + favorite, drew alongside, drew ahead passed him, and left him beaten. It + was at the mile. + </p> + <p> + The night before a man had risen in a theatre and said to two thousand + people: “The favorite will lead for the mile, and give way to Beldame.” + Could they have believed him, the men who now cursed themselves might for + the rest of their lives have lived upon their winnings. Those who had + followed his prophecy faithfully, superstitiously, now shrieked in happy, + riotous self-congratulation. “At the MILE!” they yelled. “He TOLD you, at + the MILE!” They turned toward Carter and shook Panama hats at him. “Oh, + you Carter!” they shrieked lovingly. + </p> + <p> + It was more than a race the crowd was watching now, it was the working out + of a promise. And when Beldame stood off Proper’s rush, and Proper fell to + second, and First Mason followed three lengths in the rear, and in that + order they flashed under the wire, the yells were not that a race had been + won, but that a prophecy had been fulfilled. + </p> + <p> + Of the thousands that cheered Carter and fell upon him and indeed did tear + his clothes off his back, one of his friends alone was sufficiently + unselfish to think of what it might, mean to Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Champ!” roared his friend, pounding him on both shoulders. “You old + wizard! I win ten thousand! How much do you win?” + </p> + <p> + Carter cast a swift glance at Dolly. He said, “I win much more than that.” + </p> + <p> + And Dolly, raising her eyes to his, nodded and smiled contentedly. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Who Could Not Lose, by +Richard Harding Davis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO COULD NOT LOSE *** + +***** This file should be named 1760-h.htm or 1760-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/6/1760/ + +Produced by Aaron Cannon, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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