Alfred Doolittle, former dustman turned philosopher, had recently abandoned this profession for the more congenial pasttime of making book at one of the more prominent London establishments devoted to that activity. Alas, Mr. Doolittle over-extended himself when taking bets against Sea Biscuit's grandson -- Big Al (as he was known to his customers...) had reckoned too heavily on the bloodline, and neglected to examine the thoroughbred's limbs for signs of juvenile osteoporosis... It did not take long for the bobbies to come for him when it was discovered (shortly after Sea Biscuit III was put down with four broken legs) that he did not have the wherewithall to cover his obligations.
Mr. D. was philosophical as always before the magistrate: "That's the way the bookie tumbles!" he said, summing up the sad situation in which he found himself...