Still undisturbed, still confident to those to whom he had promised
them, Carter sent a wire. Nor did he forget his old enemy, "Sol"
Burbank. " If you want to get some of the money I took," he
telegraphed, "wipe out the Belmont entry and take all they offer on
Delhi. He cannot win."
And that night, when each newspaper called him up at his flat, he
made the same answer. "The three horses Will finish as I said. You
can state that I gave the information as I did as a sort of present
to the people of New York City."
In the papers the next morning "Carter's Tip" was the front- page
feature. Even those who never in the racing of horses felt any
concern could not help but take in the outcome of this one a
curious interest. The audacity of the prophecy, the very absurdity
of it, presupposing, as it did, occult power, was in itself
amusing. And when the curtain rose on the Suburban it was evident
that to thousands what the Man Who Could Not Lose had foretold was
a serious and inspired utterance.
This time his friends gathered around him, not to benefit by his
advice, but to protect him. "They'll mob you!" they warned.
"They'll tear the clothes off your back. Better make your getaway
now."
Dolly, with tears in her eyes, sat beside him. Every now and again
she touched his hand. Below his box, as around a newspaper office
on the night when a president is elected, the people crushed in a
turbulent mob.
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