ns
for preferring rooms to an hotel. He needed to keep himself as quiet as
possible. This matter satisfactorily settled, he turned his steps to the
course, which was as yet practically deserted. There was little to
indicate that a race meeting was in progress, excepting the shows and
roundabouts and booths outside the stands and paddocks. There were the
usual loafers picnicking on the grass, the usual litter of torn
betting-tickets and papers scattered far and wide. Phillips passed
along, looking eagerly about him. He wanted somebody who could give him
certain information. He stood on the centre of the course, some four or
five hundred yards from the ring. He appeared to be admiring the
landscape, which was pleasant enough under the brilliant sunshine,
though this was interspersed now and then by ominous-looking clouds
which seemed to threaten snow later.

As most people know, Mirst Park course is situated in a kind of theatre,
with rising ground behind the stands, so that it is possible for
everybody to obtain a perfect view of a race from start to finish.
Peeping out of the trees here and there were a few good-class houses,
one of which, standing higher than the rest, towered over the top of the
grand stand. There was the suggestion of a smile on Phillips' face as he
adjusted his racing-glasses and made a close inspection of the house in
question. He could see that it possessed a flat roof with a parapet
around it. Phillips was still intent upon his examination when a
policeman with a fine air of detachment strolled by.

"The best natural course I have ever seen," Phillips said with
enthusiasm. "Have you got many like this in these parts, officer?"

"Not that I know of," the policeman said. "I suppose you have never been
here before."

"I am from South Africa," Phillips said. "We've got nothing like this
out there. I should like to have one of those houses yonder. It must be
nice to sit in your own house and be able to watch all the races,
especially in weather like this. Now there's that place at the back of
the stand. I suppose you know who that belongs to. Some man with money,
I expect?"

"I can't tell you, sir," the policeman replied. "I've lived here most of
my life, but that house yonder has been empty for a long time. I
understood it was taken by some Colonial gentleman last autumn, but I
don't think he has been in it yet. Of course, I don't know for certain,
because my beat is on the other side of the Co