Neither was now in
employment; they were now professional backers; and from daylight to dark
they wandered from public-house to public-house, from tobacconist to
barber's shop, in the search of tips, on the quest of stable information
regarding the health of the horses and their trials. But the room upstairs
at the "King's Head" was the centre of their operations. Stack was the
indefatigable tipster, Journeyman was the scientific student of public
form. His memory was prodigious, and it enabled him to note an advantage
in the weights which would escape an ordinary observer. He often picked
out horses which, if they did not actually win, nearly always stood at a
short price in the betting before the race.
The "King's Head" was crowded during the dinner-hour. Barbers and their
assistants, cabmen, scene-shifters, if there was an afternoon performance
at the theatre, servants out of situation and servants escaped from their
service for an hour, petty shopkeepers, the many who grow weary of the
scant livelihood that work brings them, came there. Eleven o'clock! In
another hour the bar and the room upstairs would be crowded. At present
the room was empty, and Journeyman had taken advantage of the quiet time
to do a bit of work at his handicap. All the racing of the last three
years lay within his mind's range; he recalled at will every trifling
selling race; hardly ever was he obliged to refer to the Racing Calendar.
Pages:
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417