282 THE RACING WORLD 



plenty of time to get out of it — pull right round 

 his horses, come up outside, and canter home. 

 It's " — here he lowered his voice — " it's a colt 

 called The Ruler. Don't bother about the 

 monkey, old boy. He'll get it back for you ; but 

 not a syllable ! " 



I went to my room, looked up the form, and 

 found that The Ruler had run twice without 

 making any show ; but that signified little in the 

 case of a presumably improving two-year-old. 

 Next day the two good things came off, but both 

 were odds on, and the result of the afternoon's 

 sport was to leave things much as they had been. 

 On the Friday an even-money chance ran a dead 

 heat, and a horse that ought to have won was 

 beaten because his jockey rode a ridiculous race, 

 thought a short head was far enough to win, and a 

 bad peck close to home made the head the wrong 

 way. My entertainers had a coachful of luncheon 

 on the other side of the course ; the sanguine 

 backer will usually find a glow of inspiring 

 confidence at the bottom of his third glass of 

 champagne, and was there not reason to be 

 sanguine about The Ruler ? 



I went into the paddock to have a look at the 

 animal that was to retrieve my fortunes, but could 

 not find him, and hurried back to the ring soon 



