125 



I had down a good bet on the favorite, on whom there 

 really was a tip, and sat waiting for the race to be run. The 

 favorite was beaten a head. As I sat there, disgusted, I felt 

 a gentle tap on my shoulder and the well-known voice of 

 my "Old Man of the Sea" said suavely: 



"Meester Davis, how can I thank you? Vill you come 

 down and have a beer ?" He won so easy, too." 



Words fail to actually interpret the thoughts that surged 

 through my brain. 



