BOOKS AND PIGEONS. 141 



the farmers of which little town, though not of a 

 particularly sporting character as sport was then 

 understood, liked to risk a sovereign or two on 

 the races run by horses of which they had some 

 sort of knowledge. Most of the seven or eight 

 occupants of the room had mildly speculated, 

 incited thereto by a young farmer named Capper, 

 who had, as a pretty general rule, got much the 

 best of it. 



News in those days did not travel very fast, 

 and the result of the race came to Chipbury in 

 rather a round-about way. The mail from Bird- 

 wood passed a village some three or four miles 

 from the scene of this story, and Scarlet, the 

 guard, brought information, which was given to a 

 boy, waiting on a pony to ride over to Chipbury 

 and let the sportsmen know what had happened. 



''What's the time? Five o'clock? Gets 

 dark early — doesn't it?" jolly old Driller said. 

 " What's that ? I hear a horse — it can't be the 

 boy already." 



The little barber looked out of the window. 



" It's some of the redcoats coming," he 

 answered, peering out into the dusk. "Why, 

 it's young Mr. Swaynton from the Manor, and 

 the young gentleman with him that's stopping 

 there on a visit. Dear me ! They're coming 

 here ! " 



