When she wanted to know which horse I pointed my finger at every toad on the track and said "that one over there!" It won. At the end of the third race I was $19,218 to the good. Clara Jane had it down in black and white on the back of an envelope in figures that couldn't lie. She said she was very proud of me, and that's where my finish bowed politely and stood waiting. She told me that it was really very wrong to bet any more after such a run of luck, and made me promise that I wouldn't wring another dollar from the trembling hands of the poor Bookmakers. I promised, but she didn't notice that I had my fingers crossed. I simply _had_ to have a roll to flash on the way home, so I took my lonely V and went out into the Promised Land after the nuggets Maddy had put me wise to. "It will be just like getting money from Uncle Peter," I figured. "A small steak from Pretty Boy," I said to Wise Samuel, the Bookmaker; "what's doing?" Wise Samuel gave me the gay look-over. "Take the ferry for Sioux Falls!" he said. "Nix on the smart talk, Sammy!" I said; "Me for the Pretty Boy! How much?" "A bundle for a bite--you're on a cold plate!" whispered Wise Samuel, but he couldn't throw me. "I don't see any derricks to hoist the price with," I tapped him. "Write your own ticket, then you to the woods!" said Sammy. In a minute my fiver was up and I was on the card to win $500 when my cute one came romping home. I went back to Clara Jane satisfied that in a few minutes I'd have a roll big enough to choke the tunnel. "Not having any money on this race you can watch it without the least excitement, can't you?" she said. I said yes, and all the while I was scrapping with a lump in my throat the size of my fist. When the horses got away with Pretty Boy in front I started in to stand on my head, but changed my mind and swallowed half the program. Pretty Boy at the quarter! Me for Rector's till they put the shutters up! Pretty Boy at the half! Me down to Tiffany's in the morning dragging tiaras away in a dray! Pretty Boy at the three-quarter pole! Me doing the free library gag all over the place! But just as they came in the stretch Pretty Boy forgot something and went back after it. The roach quit me cold at the very door of the safety deposit vaults. I was under the water a long time. Finally I heard Clara Jane saying, "Isn't it lucky you didn't bet on this race. I believe you would have picked that foolish looking horse that stopped over there to bite the fence!" "I'm done! turn me over!" I murmured, and then I rushed down among the ramblers and made a swift touch for the price of a couple of rides home. On the way back Clara Jane made me promise again that I'd be awfully, awfully careful of my $19,218. I promised her I would. JOHN HENRY WITH THE DRUMMERS. It was a swift squad of sports that climbed into a coach and allowed themselves to be yanked over the rails in the direction of Chicago one morning last week.