s I
will never pay for the stuff at all, the West End tradesmen can charge
what they please. But the fact remains that though people are tumbling
over one another to get my custom I am fairly at my wits' end for ready
cash. Of course, it will be all right when the flat season begins in
earnest. With any luck there'll be a hatful of money to share between
us before the October meeting at Newmarket. We ought to make over a
thousand pounds at Mirst Park on Saturday week. I suppose you've got it
all ready. Got the telephone in place? The worst of this game is that
one has to take so many people into one's confidence."

"That's all right," Foster explained. "Everything is in its place now. I
went down to Mirst Park the day before yesterday. The house is finished
and all the workmen have gone. The telephone is in good order, because I
tried it. The man who fixed up the extension from the hall to the roof
was a bit curious, but I managed to put him off the scent by some lie
about the doctor's orders and a patient who had been recommended to try
outdoor treatment. But we ought to have a mechanic of our own, Copley.
If any hint of our little secret leaked out, the man who fixed that
extended telephone would be certain to see it, and naturally he would
ask himself a question or two. The fewer outsiders we have to deal with
the better."

"There's no doubt of that," Copley agreed. "Then there's nothing to
settle now. Did you rehearse the bit in Covent Garden?"

"Oh, yes. I was in the office we have taken next door to the Post Club,
and went through the whole thing with Radley, who was stationed outside.
There wasn't a hitch anywhere. I don't see why we shouldn't clear a
thousand pounds; indeed, we might make a great deal more. But perhaps it
would be just as well to be on the safe side. It would be a fatal
mistake to arouse the suspicions of the bookmakers at the beginning, and
if this scheme breaks down we've got another one."

Copley smiled as he finished his brandy and soda. He threw the end of
his cigarette into the grate as the door bell rang.

"Come along," he said. "Here are our guests. Let us go into the
drawing-room and wait for them. We must assume respectability even if we
have it not."

CHAPTER IX

IN THE TOILS

In spite of his dislike of Copley, Fielden could not see much to object
to in his manner as he came forward to receive his guests. He was,
perhaps, a trifle loud and domineering, perhaps a litt