"Paul, what is that damn formula?"
"What you want to know that for?"
" We l l , w e d r e w t h e o u t s i d e p o s t a n d
e v erybody says we got no chance."
"Oh God, that's tough."
"But how much do you lose? What is
that thing?"
"The Pythagorean theorem. And that
distance you're talking about is the hypot-
enuse. How far out are you from the rail?"
" W e l l i t 's w h a t , f o u r f e e t i n t h e g a t e .
I don't know, 80 feet, 84 feet."
"And how far is it to the turn?"
"I know that. Quarter of a mile."
Sullivan fell quiet, tapping at a calculator.
"Hmm. Know how much you lose?"
"You tell me, Paul. Ten lengths? What's
that, 80 feet?"
"You lose 2.4 feet. Wait, let me check
this damned thing. No, that's right. It's
2.4 fe e t . T h a t 's a s s u m i n g y o u t a k e a
s t ra i g h t line down the hypotenuse, and
don't come rushing into the rail."
Hancock leaped off the bed, wincing as
