66 The Great Downshire Haxdicap 



Cecil was sanguine that Fortunatus would win, and by 

 the time the third glass of champagne was drunk he had 

 not a doubt that the horse would not only win, but canter 

 home — for he little knew the big ' if ' that was impending 

 over Fortunatus's chance, nor did Chattress in the least 

 suspect it. The trainer-jockey had a great liking for 

 both his guests, which they reciprocated, for Chattress 

 was a man of high character and a perfect master of his 

 business, who enjoyed general respect : a more interest- 

 ing companion for men who were devoted to the turf 

 could not easily be found. 



' What are you most afraid of in the race, Dick ? ' 

 Cecil asked. 



' Well, sir, I don't think anything has a chance of 

 beating the horse unless the "if" comes in. You saw 

 him tried, and his trial just worked out according to 

 what he has done in public, so it must have been right. 

 I think he'll win — but I've often thought so, and some- 

 thing has happened,' Dick answered. 



He knew how much Cecil Auburn's future — love as 

 well as money — depended on the Downshire Handicap, 

 and was grave at the thought. 



* Yes,' Cecil persisted, ' but put it this way : if Fortu- 

 natus wasn't running, what should you fancy then ? ' 



Dick deliberated as he filled his guest's glass with 

 golden sherry, priceless wine which a grateful employer 

 had sent as a present to him for pulling off a big event 

 by the shortest of short heads after he was to all appear- 

 ance hopelessly out of it at the distance. 



' Well,' he answered, ' if old Boatman were as good 

 as he was last year, he'd be dangerous, but I rode him at 

 Ascot, you know, and he has quite lost his dash. I 

 should rather fancy Puzzle if our horse was out of the 



