Arnaux 
1M 
That was Arnaux’s first public record; but 
others came fast, and several curious scenes were 
enacted in that old pigeon-loft with Arnaux as 
the central figure. One day a carriage drove 
up to the stable; a white-haired gentleman got 
out, climbed the dusty stairs, and sat all morning 
in the loft with Billy. Peering from his gold- 
rimmed glasses, first at a lot of papers, next 
across the roofs of the city, waiting, watching, 
for what ? News from a little place not forty 
miles away—news of greatest weight to him, 
tidings that would make or break him, tidings 
that must reach him before it could be tele- 
graphed: a telegram meant at least an hour’s 
delay at each end. What was faster than that 
for forty miles? In those days there was but 
one thing—a high-class Homer. Money would 
count for nothing if he could win. The best, 
the very best at any price he must have, and Ar- 
naux, with seven indelible records on his pinions, 
was the chosen messenger. An hour went by, 
another, and a third was begun, when with 
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