Carter found a book-maker named "Sol" Burbank who, at
those odds, accepted his two thousand.
When Carter returned to collect his twenty-two thousand, there was
some little delay while Burbank borrowed a portion of it. He looked
at Carter curiously and none too genially.
"Wasn't it you," he asked, "that had that thirty-to-one shot
yesterday on Dromedary?" Carter nodded somewhat guiltily. A man in
the crowd volunteered: "And he had Her Highness in the second, too,
for four hundred."
"You've made a good day," said Burbank. "Give me a chance to get my
money back to-morrow.
"I'm sorry," said Carter. "I'm leaving New York to-morrow."
The same scarlet car bore them back triumphant to the bank.
"Twenty-two thousand dollars?" gasped Carter, "in CASH! How in the
name of all that's honest can we celebrate winning twenty-two
thousand dollars? We can't eat more than one dinner; we can't drink
more than two quarts of champagne--not without serious results."
"I'll tell you what we can do!" cried Dolly excitedly. "We can sail
to-morrow on the CAMPANIA!"
"Hurrah!" shouted Carter. "We'll have a second honey-moon. We'll
shoot up London and Paris. We'll tear slices out of the map of
Europe. You'll ride in one motor-car, I'll ride in another, we'll
have a maid and a valet in a third, and we'll race each other all
the way to Monte Carlo.
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