THE WINNERS. 9 



against the wall, I made up my mind to hear what was 

 being said, as from the way they were ordering wine I 

 knew that they had been winners and might possibly 

 give a reporter a hint or two as to how such fruit is 

 gathered in the harvest field over which Frank Herdic 

 and William Riley presided as separators — that is, 

 separating one body of wise men from their money 

 and giving it to another, less the commission. 



As near as could be made out, some one in the party 

 was urging one of his associates to tell them how he 

 ever drifted into racing and he refused point blank to 

 make a confession unless he was given permission to 

 tell the tale from the beginning, "from the knicker- 

 bockers up," as he' expressed it between a "here is 

 looking at you" or "death to the crows." A husky 

 voice suggested that he cut in at the long breeches, 

 but it was always No ! No ! As I listened I began 

 thinking of the beginning of things from my own 

 standpoint. Did you ever pick up the trail of your 

 life step by step and try to discover the first shred of 

 memory dangling among the cobwebs of the dead 

 past and from that shadow trace the part which the 

 fairy finger of fate has played in moulding your 

 career? In many particulars the lives ot nine hundred 

 and ilinety-nine out of every thousand are shaped by 

 circumstances which existed before they were 

 born, and for the odd one who rises above them 

 the world has reserved turmoil and trouble, fame and 

 possibly fortune blasted with the sleepless spirit of 

 ambition, which like the Dead Sea fruit looks fair 

 when afar but "melts to ashes at the touch." This is 

 the beginning and the going on of man, said I, as I 

 listened to the rattle of the glasses in the next stall and 



