West country crack."

"He beats himself jumpin'."

"And that's about the lot--only the Putnam horse," continued the
trainer. "They think I know nothing about him. I know some, and I want
to know more."

"I'll settle that," said Joses.

The jockey was pulling the mare's ears thoughtfully.

"You'd like to take a little bit of Putnam's, I daresay?" he said.

"I wouldn't mind if I did," replied the tout.

"It was them done you down at the trial," continued the jockey. "Old Mat
and his Monkey and Silver Mug. The old gang."

"Regular conspiracy," said Jaggers censoriously. "Ought to be ashamed of
themselves. Doin' down a pore man like that."

The three moved out into the yard.

A little later trainer and jockey stood in the gate of the yard and
watched Joses shuffle away across the Downs.

"He's all right," said Chukkers, sucking the ivory charm he always
carried. "Ain't 'alf bitter."

"Changed," smirked Jaggers, "and for the better. They've done 'emselves
no good, Putnam's haven't, this journey."

Joses established his headquarters as of old at Cuckmere, and he made no
secret of his presence. Nor would it have been of much avail had he
attempted concealment. For the Saturday before the trial gallop had
brought Mat Woodburn a letter from Miller, the station-clerk at
Arunvale, which was the station for Dewhurst.

The station-clerk had a feud of many years' standing with Jaggers, and
had moreover substantial reasons of his own for not wishing Mocassin to
win at Aintree. Along the line of the South Downs to be against Dewhurst
was to be in with Putnam's, and the telegraph line between Arunvale and
Cuckmere could tell many interesting secrets of the relations between
Mat Woodburn and the station-clerk.

The letter in question informed Old Mat that Joses had come straight
from Portland to Dewhurst; that Chukkers had come down from London by
the eleven-twenty-seven; that Ikey had been expected but had not turned
up, and that the six-forty-two had taken Joses on to Cuckmere.

After the trial gallop, and the meeting with the fat man on the hill,
Old Mat showed the letter to Silver.

"He'll want watching, Mr. Joses will," he said.

"He didn't look very pretty, did he?" said the young man.

"Yes," mused the old man. "A little job o' work for Monkey, that'll be.
He don't like Chukkers, Monkey don't." He pursed his lips and lifting an
eye-lid looked at the other from beneath it. His blue eye was dreamy,
dewy, and