down at a gate. Eh, what--do you remember it? And the old chin-pot which
cost me twenty guineas. Why, you smashed it all to bits with your
whip--eh, what? I've laughed till I cried every time I tried to stick it
together again. Come right in and let's shake hands. You've got an
oddish looking lot in the car--bought her in at the sale, I suppose--eh,
what? Well, I'm glad to see you really."

She looked a little downcast, he thought, but prettier than he had ever
seen her before. It was quite early in the morning and his table had
been set out for breakfast, with dainty old-fashioned china and a silver
kettle singing over a lamp. Anna took her favorite arm-chair, and
drawing it close to the table permitted him to give her a cup of tea.

"You wanted to make a cheat of me," she said calmly enough. "Oh, yes, I
have heard all about it. There's nothing whatever the matter with
Whirlwind. He must win the cup--John Farrier says so. You are the person
who does not wish him to win."

Adventurers never blush when they are found out, and Willy Forrest was
no exception to the rule.

"Oh, there you are," he cried boisterously, "just the same old
kettle-drum and the same old sticks. Do you think I don't know as much
about a horse as Farrier? Good Lord, he makes me sick--I'd sooner hear a
Salvation Army Band playing 'Jumping Jerusalem' on the trombone than old
John Farrier talking honest. Are we running nags to pay the brokers out
or to make a bit on our sweet little own--eh, what? Are we
white-chokered philanthropists or wee wee baby mites on the nobbly
nuggets? Don't you listen to him, Anna. You'll have to sell your boots
if you follow old John."

She stirred her tea and sipped it slowly.

"You said Whirlwind was going lame on the near fore-leg, and it isn't
true," she exclaimed upon a pause. "What was your object in telling me
that?"

"I said it before the grooms and you didn't give me a chance of blowing
the smoke away afterwards. You say you are racing to make money and
what's the good of hymns and milk? This horse will start at eleven to
four on unless you're careful--where's my gold-lined shower bath then?
Don't you see that you must put the market back--frighten the backers
off and then step in? That's what I was trying to teach you all the
time. Give out on the loud trumpet that the horse has gone dickey and
leave 'em uncertain for a week whether he's running or sticking. Your
money's on through a third party in the 't