TIPS FROM STRANGE SOURCES 113 



and outside the livery stable where I baited my horse I 

 saw a man leaning against a doorway. He had an unmis- 

 takably horsey look about him, and was, I suspected, a race- 

 course loiterer. Just out of idle curiosity I spoke to him. 

 'Well, who's going to win the Leger?' I asked. Without 

 a moment's hesitation he answered, as glibly as if he were 

 announcing a fact that could not be disputed, ' Don John, 

 and Ian will be second.' ' But how about Cobham ? ' (the 

 first favourite) I asked. ' Cobham,' he answered, in the 

 same matter-of-fact manner, ' Cobham will break down at 

 the end of the white rails opposite the Intake Farm.' 

 ' What makes you so cock-sure about it ? ' I inquired. ' For 

 these very good reasons,' he replied. * Cobham is bad in 

 his forelegs : he has not had a real gallop for many a day. 

 Besides, he is as fat as a pig. Now, with his bad forelegs 

 and the weight on his back, he'll never reach home.' ' And 

 what makes you think that Don John is so certain to win ? ' 

 ' Because I have watched him closely, and I know there's 

 never a horse in Doncaster can go with him. You may 

 put that down as gospel truth.' 



" I was struck by his calm assurance, and I went and 

 backed Don John for as much money as I could spare. 

 My prophet was right : Don John did win, and Cobham, 

 sure enough, did break down, though it was not at the end 

 of the white rails, but nearer home. I won £yoo, and 

 determined to give my prophet a handsome present for his 

 excellent tip. But I could not find him ; he had mysteri- 

 ously disappeared, and I did not see him again for many 

 months. When I did, it was in the last place in the world 

 I should have expected to meet him. 



" I was crossing Waterloo Bridge a few days before the 

 Derby of 1839, when I ran up against him. I recognised 

 him at once, and told him that I had to thank him for 

 pocketing ^700 over the Leger. As he had no urgent 

 business on hand, I asked him to come with me to a quiet 

 tavern and have some dinner. He consented. When we 

 were seated, I told him of my intention to remunerate him 

 for his tip, and begged him to accept a ^20 note. This 

 he absolutely refused for some time, and it was only by 

 insisting on it that I forced him at last to take the money. 



