I was riding with a fellow who drove the wrong way into a one-way street. He drove over the curb to get out of the way of the traffic. Then he was turning into another side street and I said it was also the wrong way into a one-way street. I was holding a wet white sheet in a glass doorway at night and the street lights reflected on the street and threw a bright light on the street. I was with a small boy that came to the city and was going to see the editor of a paper for a story of a murder or something that was not quite right in its meaning. I was playing ball with the boys. They drove long flies. I was near the track and I saw #9 on the board that was supposed to be the favorite. The race was 1-1/4 mile. I wanted to dream what p.p. was going to win the 9th race at Tropical Park. I was going to play the #9. I had the paper in my pocket. When I took it out to see what the name of the horse was, I couldn't find the entries page.