Doctor Williams had just returned from another trip to Portland and as usual had a new tale to tell. It seems he had met, and talked to, an old friend he knew named Oscar who was wealthy enough to own a couple race horses.

There was a gent living in Portland who had not missed a race in quite a few years. Every person at the track knew him by his first, middle, and last name. Like everyone else at the track he would win a few races and lose a few but mostly he would end up losing some money almost every day the races were open.

One day he came to Oscar and tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was so choked up he couldly speak. "You've got to lend me some money," he said to Oscar. "Yesterday they threw my son out of college, they reposessed my car today, and tomorrow they are going to foreclose on my house. My wife is sick in bed and even as we speak she may be drawing her last breath."

Oscar looked a long time at the poor soul standing there and finally replied, "You're nuts. I would never lend you money. If I did you'd bet it on the horses and lose it all in one day,"  

"No, I wouldn't," came back a quick reply. "I need the money for those other things. I have enough money for the races."