104 ^ Short Head 



CHAPTER II 



' Where's Weymouth ? ' Clifton, with an aspect of much 

 concern, inquired of Beauclerk, a member of the Junior 

 Drake, as they met in the Sandown paddock. *I've been 

 looking for him everywhere.' 



' He's not down — said last night he couldn't come. 

 He had to go to Alder shot or somewhere,' Beauclerk 

 answered, mixing up military resorts. 



' What an infernal nuisance ! ' Clifton exclaimed. 

 ' I wanted most particularly to see him. I wish you'd 

 tell him so if he's at the club to-night. I only came 

 because I made sure he'd be here.' 



Things seemed to be going capitally. W^eymouth 

 would never doubt after the letter, but Beauclerk' s 

 evidence of Clifton's energetic search could do no harm. 



' I suppose Bowsprit's good, isn't it ? ' Beauclerk 

 remarked. ' I went down heavy on the last race.' 



' I can't see that it's good ! ' answered Clifton, who 

 had so far succeeded in getting on by laying 250L to 200L 

 in one case, 300Z. to 200/. in another. ' I think High 

 Street's sure to beat it. You can't persuade me that she 

 was having a go at Kempton, and I make out that she's 

 a 7 lb. better animal than Weymouth's.' 



' Do you really, now ? Well, 'pon my word I thought 

 Bowsprit was good — couldn't be beat. The Sandown 

 five furlongs, I thought, would exactly suit him — ^just 

 his course. I was going to have a plunge, and I'm in 

 the deuce of a mess. Do you know anything ? ' poor 

 little Beauclerk pitifully asked. 



' I think I do ! ' Clifton replied, mysteriously. 



