to say that the colt is much better,
but I am prepared to pledge my reputation, and it is worth something,
that I'll get him fit in a month. The whole thing has been arranged
between Sir George and that man Copley, so that the horse can be
scratched for the Derby. The public are to believe that Sir George has
been unfortunate, but has played the game like a gentleman and a
sportsman. Well, you may have what opinion you like, but I know better.
Mind you, if I didn't know what I know I should have to put up with it
and hold my tongue, because I am only a servant and no one can blame me
for obeying my orders. But I have been making inquiries, and I find that
Copley and his gang have been laying thick and thin against the colt for
the past week. Do you mean to tell me they could know the colt would be
scratched if they hadn't got Sir George in their power?"

"What do you want me to do?" Fielden asked.

A bitter smile crossed the old man's face.

"I shouldn't have thought you'd ask what you were to do, sir," he said.
"But I'm not going to stand it. I'm not going to sit down quietly and
see this game going on. I daresay you think it will be bad for Miss May
if this thing comes out. But bless you! if you go the right way to work
nothing will leak out. The colt mustn't be scratched. You leave him
where he is and he's certain to win the Derby. You are the very man to
step in and stop the game. Let Sir George know what your power is. Let
Copley see that he's got a gentleman to deal with. It will ruin Copley
and his mob, but that doesn't matter. They are a fine set of thieves,
if you ask me, sir, and I shouldn't mind telling Copley so. Now I would
like to hear your opinion."

Fielden had no particular opinion to offer. At the same time, he had
information in his possession which would have astonished Raffle if he
could only have seen into the mind of his old master. Pressing as the
matter was, it was not possible to act on the spur of the moment, and
Fielden contented himself by saying he would think over the matter.

"But you can't do it, sir," Raffle protested. "There's no time to waste
like that. The colt has to be scratched and maybe a telegram's already
gone to London to that effect. The mischief may be done."

"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that," Fielden exclaimed. "All right, Joe,
it will be a most unpleasant piece of business, but I see now that it
must not be put off any longer. I'll go straight over to Haredale Par