He was satisfied that some scheme was on foot which had nothing to do with the plot engineered by Johnson, who had staked forty thousand dollars against twenty thousand of James Wheeler’s money that Denver Bay would not win the race. Johnson wanted the horse to run and be beaten. The detective did not know exactly what the Brower crowd did want. He went over to the stables in company with Morris to find out. The dude and the roughly-dressed horseman attracted some attention as they walked into the quiet little bar-room. The men outside seemed to regard it as a good joke that Morris had picked up such a companion. “He’ll skin the dude all right enough,” said one of them from a lazy position at the watering trough. “You bet he will,” added another. “If the dude has any money left after Morris gets through betting with him he’s in luck.” “If he has any money left,” said another, “Morris will probably take him down and take it away from him.” “I dunno ’bout dat. Did you notice the dude’s neck and shoulders?” While the men outside were talking, Nick and his companion seated themselves in a small room opening from the bar-room. Nick ordered drinks and cigars liberally, and Morris was soon on the road to a high old time. “Say, young feller,” he said, lighting a cigar and turning away just long enough to permit Nick to empty his fourth glass of whisky into a spittoon, “you knocked them fellows around pretty lively over there.” “I was dooced scared, doncher know.” “Well you acted to me just like a man who enjoyed it.” “I weally didn’t know when I hit them. Dooced lucky, wasn’t I?” “’Twasn’t all luck, I guess,” said Morris, eyeing the dude suspiciously. “Oh, come now. You mustn’t talk that way to a fellah.” “Hello, there,” shouted one of the loafers from the outside, pushing the door open with his foot, “be you fellers goin’ on de retired list?” “We’re busy just now,” said Morris, angrily. “All right,” said the other, with a loud guffaw, “work de dude fer all dere is in it.” Morris started excitedly to his feet. “What do you want here anyhow?” he demanded. “No offense,” said the other, with a smile, “I just thought I’d look in and ask about the news over town.” “It’s too early for news over town. There ain’t much going on there till afternoon. You mean about the races, of course?” “I’d like to know how to win a couple of hundred.” “You won’t find out from me if you stand there all day.” “Well, so long,” said the other, closing the door with a bang. “I didn’t know but what de dude might stand treat,” he added, sneaking back to his companion. “Aw,” said Nick, as the fellow disappeared. “Just touch the bell and we’ll have something more to drink.” By this time Morris was considerably under the influence of liquor. He swallowed his whisky sullenly, and looked at his companion after the wise manner of half-drunken men. “You didn’t get a bet yet,” he said, with a hiccough. “That’s what I’m waiting for. You promised, you know.”