Sinopsis

One day last week I was beating the ballast up Broadway when Pete, the Piker, declared himself in and began to chatter about cinches at the track. "Get the saw, Pete, and cut it," I said; "it's many a long day since I've been a Patsy for the ponies. Once they stung me so hard that for months my bank looked like a porous plaster, so I took the chloroform treatment and now you and your tips to the discards, my boy, to the discards!" Pete isn't really a native of Dopeville-on-the-Fence, but he likes to have people think he knows the racing game backwards. And he doesbackwards. In real life he's a theatrical manager and his name on the three-sheets is Peter J. Badtime, the Human Salary Spoiler. In theatrical circles they call him the impresario with the sawdust koko and the split-second appetite.