THE WAY OF A TOUT.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XVII, Issue 965, 3 September 1908, Page 8

THE WAY OF A TOUT.

The wiles of the tout, or guesser, as we call them, are much the same all over the world. The American paper “ The Washington Post ” has the following amusing account of two of them: — At the Benning track the other day, a Washington tout —a pretty green one, you’ll be saying—got the buttonhole clutch on John Madden and spent five minutes trying to steer Madden on to one of his own two-year-olds. “ The tout didn t know' the smartest horseman in the United States from a cake of soap, and he used up a lot of good hot breath trying to tell John what a cinch Madden’s Requital filly, Abandon, was for the next race. “ John let the tout talk. He wasn’t busy, and the tout amused him. The tout told him that he was such pals with John Madden that Madden cried like a baby whenever they had to be separated for fifteen minutes or so, and a good deal more like that. Then Algy Dangerfield, the Jockey Club secretary, swung along and addressed Madden by name, and the tout, gasping like a stranded dogfish, took it on the lope for a shadowy corner of the grounds, where presumably he kicked himself some. “ Some of the biggest men in the racing game have had these entertaining encounters with touts who didn’t get some fun out of these incidents. One day Lucky Baldwin had his pet, Emperor of Norfolk, in a race at Washington Park, Chicago. Lucky figured with so much certainty that his great horse was in, as we say, that he had his commissioners in all of the big cities to get the coin down. “ About an hour before the race the old man strolled up to the bar for a little drink. He was tossing in the drink when Spinner Laffin, a well-known Chicago tout, of his day, ambled alongside. Spinner had been in a hospital for several months, and the great Lucky, who’d only been operating on the Chicago tracks for a short time then, was a new one on him. “ ‘ Judge,’ said Spinner to Lucky, ’ I ain’t no slaminsky ,but I sure hate t’ see good people like you look t’ be let a wealthy chanct grease by ’em.’ “ ‘ Why,’ said Lucky, looking as if he was pleased to be noticed by a person with a pair of field glasses slung over his shoulder, ‘do you know something about this race?’ “‘Do I know somet’in’?’ almost groaned Spinner ‘ Why, gran’pa, I’m back down town now, openin’ wine on my winnin’s.’ “ ‘ You don’t tell me,’ excitedly exclaimed Lucky. * Well, I declare. You must have some remarkable information.’ “ ‘C’mover here,’ panted Spinner, taking Lucky by the lapel of his frock coat and dragging him off to a corner of the bar inclosure. ‘Pop, you look right t’ me. You look like class and like you’ll stik th’ route. Lis’nt t’ me and git somet’in’ f’r yourself.’ “Indeed I shall!’ put in Lucky, playing it along because he enjoyed it. “ ‘ Pop,’ went on Spinner, ‘d’jevver hear o’ that gay ol’ maverick that owns ’bout half o’ California an’ got a mortgage on the rest of it? Lucky Baldwin, I’m spielin’ about.’ “ ‘ Seems to me like I’ve heard that name somewhere or other,’ said Lucky. “ ‘ Uh-huh. All right,’ said Spinner. ‘ Well, lemme tell you somet’in’, gran’pa. If there’s anythin’ foxier ’n deeper ’n coinier racin’ around these groun’s than that same ol’ shorthorn, Lucky Baldwin, then I’ll lap up buttermilk f’r th’ rest o’ my life an’ pertend t’ like it.’ “ ‘ Is —er —is Mr Baldwin represented in this race?’ inquired Lucky, pretending to be eager to arrive at the point. ‘“ls he represented in it?’ repeated Spinner, in a tone of pity. ‘ls the sun a-shinin’? Pop, he’s got a pup in this race that’ll be lyin’ down poundin’ his ear in his box w’en all th’ rest o’ them woodchucks is roundin' the far turn. His one’s named Emp’ror of Norfolk. The Emp’ror could win this if he had th’ shingles, th’ housemaid’s knee, an’ th’ bubonic plague all at onct. Go to that one, gran’pa—Emp’ror of Norfolk, pipe th’ name—there’s all th’ 8-t’-l you can eat—and if he don’t come home with th’ • carrots I’ll snag a job drivin’ a truck f’r Marshall Field and Co., and start takin’ a business course at th’ night school!’

‘“I really believe,’ said Lucky to Spinner, who was brick-red in the face by this time from the joy of haying nailed a live one, ‘ that I shall follow your advice in this matter. The betting ring seems to be very much crowded to-day, though. Could I ask you to make the wager for me?’ “ ‘Naw, I couldn’t think of doin’ it,’ said Spinner, holding out his hand with a grin for Lucky’s money. Lucky pulled out a yellow roll of the size of a prize squash and skinned off one of the hundreds into Skinner’s mitt. The tout sailed into the ring and found a chalker who was laying 10 to 1 against the Emperor. He bought a ticket reading lOOOdol to lOOdol. and vamped back to where Lucky was waiting for him at the bar. “ ‘You hold the ticket, if you please, young man,’ said Lucky to Spinner when the tout offered to pass him the ticket. ‘ I never have any luck holding tickets myself.” “ Then Lucky passed with the tout on to the lawn to witness the race. The horses were on their way to the post. All of the friends of Lucky marvelled to see him walking around the lawn and conversing chummily with one of the best known touts around the Chicago tracks.

“ Emperor of Norfolk got from the post on his toes, ahd when he came down to the wire all atone at the finish he was merely lolling! in his boy’s lap. “ ‘Awful poor, ain’t I, grand’pa?’ gloated Spinner. ’Putrid?? ain't I? Didn’t know a t’ing about Lucky’s ace in th’ cistern, did I, or nothing? Wait’ll I go get th’ kale on this ticket —meet me at the bar,’ and the tout dashed for the ring. “ Lucky wandered up the lawn and over to the bar, picking up excited friends as he walked. By the time Spinner got the ticket cashed and reached the bar there was something doing in the bar inclosure. About forty of Lucky’s friends had formed a cordon around the old man, and they were dancing an Injun ring-around-rosy around him. The magnums were stacked up on the bar three deep, and the contents of the magnums were for anybody that swung along with a thirst. “ ‘ What’s the matter with old man Lucky? He’s all right!’ the bunch of dancers around Baldwin were howling at ten-second intervals. Spinner, returning, saw this stuff and'halted. He stood at the entrance to the bar for a minute or. so, trying to grasp the meaning of the scene, and then the big white light splattered all over him. “ ‘Gov-nor,’ he said,-hoarsely, tfy* ing to slip the llOOdol to Lucky after the cordon had broken up and the jubilant ones were drinking, ‘ I feel bum enough. Don’t make it any worse. Don’t put nobody hep to it, 'thats’ all. I ain’t asking f’r a ’ting, Guv’nor, exceptin’ please don’t put th‘ gang hep. That’ud be worse’n rulin’ me off —I’d never git th’ last of th’ kiddin’.’ “ Lucky smiled. He was always a magnanimous old fellow, and he never was known to intentionally hurt even a stable boy’s feelings. “ ‘ln you means with the little roll, son,’ he whispered to Spinner. ‘l’ve had my fun opt ofjt. I win about ninety thousand to the race if my boys got the money down right, and so it’s all right. Your conversation saved me from being a heap nervous before the race, and so you’re welcome to your bit.’ ”