to the ring. The
second race was over and the numbers had been called out for the Epsom
Plate; the bookmakers were already shouting the odds.

"Craker's horse is a hot pot," said Harry, "there'll be danger in that
quarter. When Peet puts his money down he generally has good reason
for it."

Peet Craker was a big bookmaker, owner of horses, a heavy bettor on his
own animals; he had an enormous business on the course and off.

The horse in question was Bittern, a champion over seven furlongs, he
could not quite stay the mile, and he was conceding ten pounds to Robin
Hood.

Alan knew Craker well, the bookmaker often did business with him and
for him. Sometimes he went to Trent Park. He was a man of good
education, there was no coarseness about him.

"Your horse is favorite, Peet," said Alan.

"He has a big chance if he can beat yours," was the reply.

"Ten pounds is a lot to give Robin Hood over seven furlongs," said Alan.

"My fellow's very well."

"So is mine."

"I'll save a monkey with you," said the bookmaker.

"All right, I'm agreeable," was Alan's reply.

Peet Craker looked at him as he walked away.

"Wonder if Robin Hood is as good as Skane thinks," he muttered. "If he
beats Bittern he's a good 'un. I'll stand mine, but I'm glad we're
saving a monkey."

Alan put money on freely when he fancied his horses, but he seldom bet
on other people's. He backed Robin Hood to win a large sum. Having
finished his business in the ring he returned to Evelyn's box with
Harry Morby.

The horses got away as they entered; a black jacket, white sash and
cap, in front.

"Peet's luck's in, that's Bittern," said Alan; "a good start makes all
the difference over this distance."

The field came down the slope at a great pace. There were fifteen
horses; in the center was Robin Hood, he seemed to be hemmed in.

Tommy was savage. Not only had Robin Hood been kicked at the post, but
also badly bumped and knocked out of his stride when they were going.
He used forcible language to the offending jockey, who retaliated in
kind.

Bittern liked to make the running, and his rider, Will Gunner, knew his
mount well. He had not the slightest doubt about winning; everything
was in the horse's favor. Peet Craker looked through his glasses, saw
his colors a couple of lengths in front, and lowered them, quite
satisfied.

At the foot of the slope Bittern still led, followed by Lantern, Topsy,
and Retreat; Robin Hood s