98 



A SHORT HEAD 



CHAPTEE I 



It was with an ugly frown on his bj no means amiable 

 features, and the utterance of a savage oath, that 

 Francis Clifton crushed a letter in his hand and threw it 

 into the waste-paper basket before taking up the morning 

 papers to study the day's Sandow^n programme. The 

 letter was from his trainer, and conveyed the news that a 

 fatal accident had happened to a two-year-old they had 

 been carefully ' readying ' for a Nursery. The animal 

 had been steadily pulled all the season ; Clifton had on 

 each occasion of its running backed it to make a show ; 

 it was quite good enough to win in its turn, but he had 

 preferred to go for a couj), and now that it had got into 

 a Nursery with about 21 lb. in hand, it had bolted at 

 exercise, thrown its boy, and broke its leg over a gate. 

 Things had been going badly with Clifton for a long 

 time past, his failures being invariably attributable to 

 the same cause — he w^as always a little too clever, and 

 just over-reached himself when he was trying to over- 

 reach those with whom he did business. Well connected, 

 and starting life with a moderate fortune of some two 

 thousand a year, he had gradually lost all his money and 

 most of those wiio were reckoned as his friends for the 



