“Are you sure?” the punter asked. “Twenty-three to one seems a rather bad odds.”
“It’s a cert thing,” the stable groom said. “Bet on it myself, already.”
The gambler made his way to the window and placed a thousand pounds on King Velvet.
It was an exciting race and the horse held steadily in the second position for the entire course – even to the finish.
“That’s the last time I ever trust that Irish lout,” the punter spat.
Just then there was an announcement that Willow Gold had been disqualified. King Velvet was indeed the winner.
The man made his way to the booth to collect his massive windfall. As he approached, he saw the groom leaving the window £230 in hand.
“Thanks for tipping the Velvet,” the gambler said.
“No problem,” the groom said. “It was worth drugging the Willow over.”
“I didn’t hear that,” the gambler said taking a cautious look around.
“Hear it, as I saw it – you ordered it. Now about my £1000 commission.”