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. “What’s the idea?” he demanded. “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. “He’s taking it home in a trunk!” they yelled. 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. 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.” “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.” 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: SOLD OUT IN ONE DAY! ENTIRE FIRST EDITION THE DEAD HEAT BY CHAMPNEYS CARTER SECOND EDITION ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND “In Heaven’s name!” roared Carter. “What does this mean?”