'Why, I thought that-----'
'No such thing, sir; Briar Rose's the one.'
Ginger took up the paper. 'Twenty-five to one Briar Rose taken.'
'You see, sir, it was taken.'
'Will you lay the price, William--twenty-five half- sovereigns to one?'
'Yes, I'll lay it.'
Ginger took a half-sovereign from his pocket and handed it to the bookmaker.
'I never take money over this bar. You're good for a thin 'un, sir,' William said, with a smile, as he handed back the money.
'But I don't know when I shall see you again,' said Ginger. 'It will be very inconvenient. There's no one in the bar.'
'None but the match-seller and them two flower-girls. I suppose they don't matter?'
Henceforth something to live for. Each morning bringing news of the horse, and the hours of the afternoon passing pleasantly, full of thoughts of the evening paper and the gossip of the bar. A bet on a race brings hope into lives which otherwise would be hopeless.
NEVER had a Derby excited greater interest. Four hot favourites, between which the public seemed unable to choose. Two to one taken and offered against Fly-leaf, winner of the Two Thousand; four to one taken and offered against Signet-ring, who, half trained, had run Fly-leaf to a head. Four to one against Necklace, the winner of the Middle Park Plate and the One Thousand. Seven to one against Dewberry, the brilliant winner of the Newmarket