I found my way to the track easily enough; I’d been watching Don yesterday. Today Dan was watching me. Now, if I remembered correctly, there should be a parking place, right over… here. There was, and I pulled neatly into it.

I bought a private box and had no trouble finding it. Dan was properly impressed with how well I knew my way around; actually, I was trying not to be so cocksure, but it wasn’t easy. He was such a perfect audience to my newly discovered self-confidence.

After we’d gotten our drinks, I remembered how Don had pretended to study the newspaper yesterday and how funny I thought that had been. So I did the same thing. I frowned and muttered thoughtfully, and Danny giggled in appreciation. Maybe he was starting to warm up to me. “I think Absolam’s Ass looks pretty good in the first,” I announced. “Danny, go put a hundred dollars on Absolam’s Ass. To win.”

He started fumbling in his pockets. I pulled out some bills from mine. “Here,” I said impulsively, “make it two hundred.”

He blinked and took the two hundred-dollar bills I was holding out. “You want to get rich?” I said. “You have to spend money to make money.”

He went off to place the bet, leaving me to wonder what I had just done. Don had given me only one hundred dollars. I had given Dan twice as much. I had changed the past again!

First the sweater and slacks, now the amount of the first bet, yet I remembered it happening the other way—

Paradox? A pair of paradoxes? I finished my drink thoughtfully, then finished Danny’s.

Absolam’s Ass paid off at three to one and we had six hundred dollars. I went and got two more drinks while Danny went to bet on Fig Leaf. I found myself wondering — if I could change the past so easily, maybe it wasn’t as fixed as I thought it was, maybe Fig Leaf wouldn’t win this time. But on the other hand, I hadn’t done anything that should have had any effect on that, had I?

Fig Leaf paid off at two to one. We now had twelve hundred dollars. I had another drink. Ginger ale. For some reason, this was getting scary.

Calamity Jane came in on schedule too. We doubled our money again.

The next race was the fun one. I’d forgotten about Harass bumping Tumbleweed. When Finders Keepers came in second, Dan looked at me in confusion. “Wait—” I grinned. After Harass was scratched, we were worth nineteen thousand, two hundred dollars. I felt great. We could keep this up all afternoon and we would end up with $750,000 — no, twice that; I had doubled our original bet. We’d take home a million and a half! “Go put it all on Big John,” I said. I must have been getting a little dizzy.

Dan went off, but almost immediately, he was back. No — I stood up in surprise — this was Don. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Sit down,” he said. He looked grim.

“What’s the matter?”

He handed me a newspaper. It looked like todays Herald Examiner. I opened it up—

The headline blared: IDENTICAL TWINS TAKE TRACK FOR $1,500,000! And in smaller type: Track Officials Promise Full Investigation.

I looked at Don. Confused.

He looked back. Angry. “Don’t be greedy,” he said. “Quit before it gets too big.”

“I don’t understand—” I started to stammer.

“I’ve come from the middle of next week,” he whispered. “Only in that future, we’re in trouble. Big trouble. We won too much money here at the track today, so I’ve come back to tell you not to win any more. They’re going to get suspicious.”

“How about one more bet?” I asked. “Michelangelo will make us worth a hundred and fifteen thousand, two hundred dollars.”

He frowned. “Even that might be too much.” His eyes blazed; he gripped my arm. “Dan, listen to me — you don’t want publicity! None at all! Don’t let them take any pictures and don’t talk to reporters.” He looked at his watch. “Dan will be back any minute. I’ve got to go. Read the newspaper if you have any doubts—” Then he left. I watched him as he strode away, then I looked at the Examiner. The story was pretty ugly. I folded up the papers and shoved them under my seat just as Danny returned.

He started to ask me something about the next race, but I cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. We’re leaving right after this. We’re through for the day.”

“Huh—? Why?”

I waited till after the horses broke from the gate. Sure enough, Big John broke first to take an early lead. I said, “Because in a few minutes we’re going to be worth fifty-seven thousand, six hundred dollars. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

,"But if we keep going,” he protested, “we can make a million and a half dollars on an eight-horse parlay.”

I winced. I thought of the newspapers under my seat. “There are better ways to make a million and a half dollars,” I said. “Quieter ways. More discreet.”

He didn’t answer. I waited till Big John crossed the finish line and paid off at three to one. I scooped up my newspapers and stood. “Come on,” I said. “You go get the money. I’ll wait for you at the car.”

I think he wanted me to go with him, but I had to be alone for a while. I had a lot to think about and I was suddenly in a very, very bad mood.

Oh, it wasn’t the money — I’d already realized that if I could make fifty-seven thousand, six hundred dollars in one day at the races, I could easily turn that into more in the stock market. And there were other ways I could make a fortune too—

It wasn’t the money. It was the implications of the visit from Don.

This Don, the new one, the one who had given me the newspaper — where had he come from? The future obviously, but which future? His world was one that no longer existed — no, never would exist. We were leaving the races without taking the track for a million and a half dollars.

I reached the car and got in on the passenger side. I didn’t feel like driving back. I started to toss the papers into the back seat, then stopped. I looked at them again. One had a small story on page one: FIVE-HORSE PARLAY WINS $57,600! The other: IDENTICAL TWINS TAKE TRACK FOR $1,500,000! A banner headline.

Both newspapers were dated the same, yet they were from two different alternate worlds.

The $57,600 world was mine; I knew the events in it because I had lived them. The $1,500,000 world was Don’s, but he had talked me out of the actions that would eventually produce his future.

Where had that future gone? Where had that Don gone? Had they both ceased to exist?

No. I still had the newspaper. That proved something.

Or did it?

I had the paper in my hands — it was real. But you couldn’t take it back — I mean, forward — to the future it came from because that future no longer existed. Shouldn’t the newspaper cease to exist too?

The “Don” who had come back in time to talk me out of the actions that had produced the time he had come from — what had happened to him?

Where was he now?

If he stayed here — like the newspaper — he wouldn’t disappear. (Were there actually two of me now?) In fact, he couldn’t disappear, unless he could get back to his own future, except that future didn’t exist anymore, so he couldn’t do that.

Now, wait a minute…

If he bounced forward from now, where would he end up? His world’s future? Or this world’s future? If he went back to his world, he’d have to disappear with that world, wouldn’t he? Or would he? But if he disappeared, then he wouldn’t exist and couldn’t come back to warn me. So, he had to exist. Where was he? Unless — maybe his original world didn’t disappear at all. Maybe it just got left behind.

So, where was Don?

Was he waiting for me in tomorrow?

If so, then he wouldn’t be my future self anymore. He’d be a different duplicate.

No. The whole thing didn’t make sense. It didn’t seem logical that every time I went back and talked myself out of an action that I would create a duplicate of myself—