rushed to wager their money on this chance, and the horse’s owner, who is anything but a fool, proceeded to back his own property lavishly.  Now a certain number of the betting-rogues appeared to know something—­if I may be pardoned for using their repulsive phraseology—­and, so long as any one was willing to bet on the horse, they were ready to lay against him.  Still the pigeons would not take warning by this ominous symptom; they had chances enough to keep clear of danger, but they flocked into the snare in their confused fashion.  A grain of common sense would have made them ask, “Why do these shrewd, hard men seem so certain that our favourite must lose?  Are they the kind of persons who risk thousands in hard cash unless they know particularly well what they are doing?  They bet with an air of certainty, though some of them must be almost ruined if they have made a miscalculation; they defy even the owner of the animal, and they cheerfully give him the opportunity of putting down thousands if he wishes to do so.  There must be some reason for this assurance which at first sight looks so very overweening.  Better have a care!”

Thus would common sense have counselled the victims; but, alas, common sense is usually left out of the composition of the betting-man’s victim, and the flood of honest money rolled into the keeping of men who are certainly no more than indifferent honest.  The day of the race came; the great gaping public dipped their hands in their pockets and accepted short odds about their precious certainty.  When the flag fell for the start, the most wildly extravagant odds were offered against the favourite by the men who had been betting against him all along, for they saw very soon that they were safe.  The poor brute on whose success so many thousands depended could not even gallop; he trailed on wearily for a little, without showing any sign of his old gallant fire and speed, and at last his hopeless rider stopped him.  This story is in the mouths of all men; and now perhaps our simpletons maybe surprised to hear that the wretched animal which was the innocent cause of loss and misery was poisoned by a narcotic.  In his efforts to move freely he strained himself, for the subtle drug deprived him of the power of using his limbs, and he could only sprawl and wrench his sinews.  This is the fourth case of the kind which has recently occurred; and now clever judges have hit upon the cause which has disabled so many good horses, after the rascals of the Ring have succeeded in laying colossal amounts against them.  Too many people know the dire effects of the morphia injections which are now so commonly used by weak individuals who fear pain and ennui; the same deadly drug is used to poison the horses.  One touch with the sharp needle-point under the horse’s elbow, and the subtle, numbing poison speeds through the arteries and paralyzes the nerves; a beautiful creature that comes out full of fire and courage is converted in a very few minutes