*

Nobody but those immediately concerned were at Polefax station to see
the local National horse boxed for Liverpool.

Albert was there, and Boy, her collar about her ears, and Billy Bluff
looking unusually dejected.

Old Mat, it was remarked by the porters, was not present; and Monkey
Brand, it was also remarked, though at the station, took no part in the
proceedings, huddling over the fire in the waiting-room, a desolate
little figure of woe.

As the young horse entered his box at a siding, the train from Brighton
came into the station.

Silver stepped out of it, a cloak over his arm.

He did not join the little group busy about the box, but made for the
solitary figure watching from the far end of the platform.

"Your cloak, Mr. Joses," he said pleasantly.

"Thank you," replied the fat man, cold and casual. "I shall want it at
Liverpool."

"You left it behind you last night."

"I did," admitted the other. "I was having a chat with Monkey Brand.
And that brute of a dog came for me as I left."

"The bottle you brought's in the pocket," continued Silver.

"Good," said Joses. "I hope there's something in it."

"Nothing now."

"Ah, shame! You shouldn't hold out false hopes."

Silver's chin became aggressive.

"Doping's a crime, Mr. Joses."

"Is that so, Mr. Silver?"

"Your attempt to dope that horse last night puts you within the grip of
the law."

"Who says I attempted to dope him?"

"I do."

"Any evidence to support your libellous statement?"

"What about the notes you gave Monkey Brand?"

The fat man laughed.

"So Monkey Brand's implicated, is he?" he said. "He took money from me
to settle your horse, and leaked when he was in liquor. That's the
story, is it?" He lifted his voice. "D'you hear that, Brand?"

"I hear," came the little sodden voice from the waiting-room. "And I
says nothing. There's One Above'll see me right."

Joses shook his curls at Silver.

"Won't wash," he said. "Really it won't. What the lawyers call
collusion. You didn't know I was trained for the Bar, did you? Another
little surprise packet for you. Come, Mr. Silver, you must do a little
better than that--an old hand like you."

The young man observed him with slow, admiring eyes.

"Joses," he said deliberately, "you're a clever rogue."

The fat man's eye became almost genial. He looked warily round, and then
came a step closer.

"Ain't I?" he whispered.

Silver, laughing gently, handed him his cloak.