BUSINESS ABROAD: King of the Bookies

One day a gentleman collapsed in the entrance hall of White's, London's oldest, most exclusive club. Legend has it that while he was being dragged inside, other club members wagered on whether he was dead or just unconscious. This so shocked a parson that he cried out: "I protest! I believe that if the last trumpet were sounded, [Britons] would bet on whether it was a puppet show or the last Day of Judgment."

Last week, though parsons still thundered, Britons were betting more than ever. Gambling is more at home in Britain than anywhere else in the world. Every Thursday night, some 7,000,000 families gather around domestic hearths for a quiet evening at home, picking entries for the weekend mutuel football (soccer) pools. Half the adult population in the isles bets, and individuals wager an average of 60¢ a week. Last year the gambling outlay amounted to 81,540,000,000. The favorites: $980 million on horse racing, $336 million on dog racing, and $207 million on football pools.

Six days a week, every week of the year, British factory workers bet on horse and greyhound races. The Methodist Temperance and Social Welfare Committee sin gled out this "constant interruption of industrial effort by gambling'' as one of the main reasons for Britain's low productivity. But the 1951 Royal Commission on Betting pooh-poohed the thought: "Gambling on the [present] scale cannot be. regarded ... as a serious strain on our resources or manpower."

Self-Made Man. Today, the pastime of having a "flutter" is a big, respectable business in Britain, employing 100,000 workers. Lording it over the industry is a burly, self-made man named Bill Hill, 52, King of the Bookies. Hill learned the business as a bookies' runner, set himself up in business while still a teenager. He went broke once, before he got enough capital to withstand the heavy losses on the days the bettors "beat the books." No mobster or furtive tout, Bill now has his own Hill House, a palatial office building in London's bustling Piccadilly Circus. As the 1955-56 professional football got under way he looked to another busy year of booking bets. He expects to handle $16,-800,000 in soccer bets, $51,800,000 more in horse-racing wagers, $9,800,000 on dog races—a total for the year of $78,400,000. On this, Hill's take is 25% on soccer, i% on racing bets at the track, and 6% away from the track, a total of $7,102,000. His overhead is high (20% on football bets), and he keeps his profit secret. But his profit before taxes is estimated at about $3,000,000.