An across-the-board bet, Ray thought, would get him five bucks more—and would cost him less if the horse did win. "I'm playing her across myself," he said. "Thirty bucks, ten each way. So if she even runs third I'll break even."

One thing he'd learned long ago: if you give a man a tip on a horse let him think you're betting at least as much as he is and preferably more. That way if the horse loses he blames you less, because you've lost too; you're a fellow sufferer.

This time it paid off even better than he'd expected. Connolly hesitated only a second and then took a twenty and a ten out of his wallet, handed them over. "Make mine the same way," he said. "If you can go thirty I guess I can."

"Good," Ray said. He put the bills into his wallet, holding it with the open edge toward himself so Connolly wouldn't be able to see how little had been in it before—a ten and two fives.

He looked at his wrist watch and pretended to be surprised by what he saw there. "Good God," he said. "A quarter after—and I told Amico I'd see him at eight. I'd better run. Maybe see you later in the evening, Chuck. So long."

Outside he took a deep breath of the cool evening air and decided that he felt swell, and that his luck had turned. Thirty bucks in one crack, even if he'd had to spend five to get it. And he now had fifty—enough, if a bare minimum, to get into the big game that would really change his luck.

And since his luck had changed maybe he'd find Dolly home now if he called again.

He went into the drugstore on the next corner and dialed her number in the phone booth. And this time, after seven rings—a lucky number?—Dolly's voice answered, a bit breathlessly.

8:17 P.M.

Dolly Mason heard the first ring of the phone when she was in the hallway outside her apartment, returning from dinner with Mack Irby. Mack was with her and she thought she had a free evening to spend with him. She ran to the door, fished the key out of her handbag and stuck it in the lock. It jammed there for several rings of the telephone inside, till Mack said, "Let me, Doll." He reached around her and turned the key. Dolly got to the phone just as it finished the seventh ring. "Hello," she said, a bit breathlessly.

"Hi, Dolly," the phone said to her. "This is Ray. Ray Fletcher."

"Oh. Hi, Ray 

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