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Show right. No matter how small the wager, men and women who bet on races become excited and thrilled. It is almost a physical impossibility impossibil-ity not to. And yet Norma and Monty had displayed no outward emotion whatever. what-ever. In comparison to the Spragues and my wife and I, they were totally unresponsive. Something was wrong. It was not until dinnertime that night that my feelings were relieved and the mystery solved. Norma and Monty were grinning when they entered the dining room. Obviously they were bursting with something to tell. It was Monty who finally told the story. It seems when he and Norma were dressing for dinner, Monty had noticed five black and blue spots on his wife's arm. He questioned her about them, but her puzzlement was as great as his. They became alarmed and were about to summon a doctor, when suddenly Monty remembered re-membered vaguely something he'd done during that last race. He remembered re-membered taking hold of Norma's arm. The explanation was simple. Unknowingly Un-knowingly Monty's grip had tightened as the horses rounded the last turn. But Norma, her Interest concentrated concentrat-ed on the race; had felt no pressure, no pain, though the force of Monty's grip must have been terrific, as indicated in-dicated by the extent of Norma's bruises. Those black and blue marks were a dead giveaway to the tremendous excitement under which the young couple was laboring. Does betting on horse races stimulate stimu-late excitement? The answer is "Yes." AT THE RACES S3 By STANLEY CORDELL (AssoctriU-d Newspapers.) WNU Service. BETTING on horse races is undoubtedly un-doubtedly a vice. I admit from the start that it is wrong. The odds are against the bettor. His chances of winning are slight. Yet, despite it all, horse racing enthusiasts who do not bet on their favorite are few. A small wager increases the thrill tenfold. Norma and Monty Castle will tell you that I am right. The Castles came to Hollywood last winter with a party of friends. On the second day of their arrival I brought them and the Spragues to the races at Santa Anita. It was a dull afternoon. after-noon. My guests were bored. The six of us sat in the grandstand and watched the first three races with little display of Interest. We were familiar with none of the horses, their records nor their Jockeys. The time between races was long and tiresome. At last I said, only partly serious, "Let's place a bet on one of the horses. We can at least cheer for him." "Let's," said Norma, brightening at once. "Which horse is the favorite. favor-ite. You ought to know." As a matter of fact, I didn't, but I admitted knowledge of a way to find out. I excused myself and five minutes later I was back carrying a dope sheet, for which I'd paid a dollar. We studied the sheet together, and learned that the odds on Uncle Tom were great for the next race. He was, without doubt, the favorite. We descended to the betting booths and each placed $2 on Uncle Tom. After that we lined the paddock rail and waited. Uncle Tom won by a length, and we all collected forty cents, In addi-. tion to our $2 investment It was Uncle Tom won by a length. most exciting. We consulted the dope sheet and learned that Robin-hood Robin-hood was the next race's favorite. Feeling extremely sophisticated we bet again and won again! This time ninety cents each. The fever began to get in our blood. We b3gan to glow and jabber excitedly. We learned the meaning of such terms as "playing him across the board," "on the nose"; Doughnut Dough-nut only "placed"; Baby Doll "showed." We began to feel exhilarated. exhila-rated. We studied horses and riders with what we thought was a judicious judi-cious and experienced eye. By the time the parade had started start-ed preparatory to the seventh race, our winnings netted us $6 each. We were jubilant. And in a spirit of confidence and recklessness we agreed to place our total winnings, plus an added $6 each, "on the nose" of Flying Tail, the favorite for race No. 7. It was a seven-furlong race, out of the chute, which meant that the horses started some distance from where we stood, the race ending, of course, directly in front of us. It was after the tape had been snapped and the little knot of riders rid-ers were beating around the track that I turned to observe the expressions expres-sions on the faces of my friends. Norma, I found, had turned her back and was nonchalantly lighting a cigarette. cig-arette. Monty, too, seemed little interested in the race. This puzzled me. I couldn't understand it, and I knew a feeling of keen disappointment. disappoint-ment. Could it be that the couple had become bored again? Were they actually immune to thrills? The Spragues, I noticed, were breathless and excited, their eyes glued to the track. Their obvious state of high tension was satisfying. At least I had succeeded in providing provid-ing a thrill for two of my guests. But now the horses were at the turn and were sweeping down the straightaway. Flying Tail was in the lead. The crowd thundered its applause. And then just as the on-rushing on-rushing animals reached the north end of the paddock, Icanwin, another favorite, swept up the turf. For a time, he ran neck and neck with Flying Tail. The finish line was near. But before it was reached, Icanwin stretched out his neck and won by inches. It was sad for us. We lost not only our winnings, but an additional $6 each. Such is the fate of all who bet on horse races. I turned to Norma and Monty. They smiled. They seemed not to care. In fact, I doubt if either had observed the sad fate of our favorite. Solemnly we trooped back to the car. En route to town I pondered over the attitude of Norma and Monty. Somehow it didn't seem |