shall be able to chaff them when White Legs has won," she
answered.

"I say, old man, your horse is coming with a rattle in the betting;
there's a pot of money going on," said Harry Morby.

"Mine, no doubt," answered Alan. "I have sent out a late commission.
I am anxious to win; it will take Miss Berkeley down a peg; she always
pins her faith to the Baron's colors."

"That's your fault," said Harry.

"Why?"

"Because you treat her with indifference and she doesn't deserve it."

"I am not aware of doing so," said Alan. He would have resented this
from anybody except Morby, who was a privileged person.

Captain Morby did not pursue the subject further.

"You can keep a secret, Alan?" he asked.

"I'll try. You're a mysterious fellow, Harry."

"It's about the regiment," he said. "We're to hold ourselves ready at
a moment's notice--don't split--I might be court-martialled."

"Whew!" whistled Alan. "This looks serious."

"Bet you there's war before long; it's a bigger cert than Bandmaster,"
said Harry.

"And I'm out of it."

"You needn't be. Join us again. You'll easily get your commission;
they'll want all the men they can get, especially officers."

"If there is trouble I shall not be idle," said Alan.

"I know that, old fellow; no need to tell me that."

Something seemed to be in the air. There were many officers present
and they were talking in groups of three or four. Judging by their
faces it was not about racing; Alan noticed this and thought:

"It's coming, the great upheaval; Fraser's man is right. By Jove, I'll
hustle, as Braund would say, when things begin to move."

The horses were going to the post and the June sun shone on the thirty
bright jackets as they went past. The din in Tattersalls was
deafening. In the crowded enclosure there was hardly room to move;
eager backers jostled each other in their anxiety to get at the
bookmakers.

Peet Craker left the rails for a moment as he saw Alan Chesney.

"I've a matter of a couple of thousand left against Bandmaster," he
said.

"I'll have it," answered Alan; and the bookmaker said, "at a hundred to
eight."

"That's a fair price," said Alan.

"Will he win, Mr. Chesney?"

"He has a real good chance, Peet," replied Alan.

The horses disappeared over the brow of the hill, cantered down the
slope, and ranged behind the barrier, with the trees for a background.
It was a beautiful line of color as seen from the top of the stands