io6 A Short Head 



mission. The horses were at the post, however, and, as 

 Clifton noticed with much annoyance, were Kkely to stay 

 there for some time. The racing was late. The 

 Maiden Plate had been set for 3.45, and it was past fom^ — 

 nearly 4.10; but something in a white jacket kept breaking 

 away, and a little black mare would not join her horses. 

 Clifton must catch his train, and had a fly waiting to 

 drive him to the station, but it would take ten minutes, 

 he reckoned, to leave his place on the steps in front of 

 the Stewards' Stand, get into his trap and reach the 

 train ; and as he brought his glasses to bear on the 

 horses at the five furlongs starting-post he saw that the 

 white jacket was off again. A glance at his watch : 4.15 

 — he must be off in ^\e, minutes, and there was the little 

 black beast apparently trying to climb over the boarded 

 fence behind the starter. 



' Hulloa ! I was looking for you. Are you on 

 High Street ? ' came suddenly from a voice at his side. 

 It was Beauclerk. ' I've had a plunge— eleven hundred 

 to four. Bad price, but it's the best I could get. Are 

 you on ? ' 



' Yes. I've backed it,' Clifton rephed. 



' Heavy ? Oh, I say, do you really think it's good ? 

 What do you know about it ? If this doesn't come off, I 

 shall be in a deuce of a mess unless Sapphire wins in the 

 North. I've got 1,200 to 100 about him. Off! No, it's that 

 beast in white. Oh, I say, don't you think Weymouth's 

 horse'll win ? Listen ! They'll " take 3 to 1." There ! 

 " 5 to 1 bar one " — beastly bad price I got. Ought to 

 have had 2,000 to 400— it'll make a difference of a lot if 

 it wins. What's the time ? 4.20 — ah ! now he's got 'em. 

 Yes. They're off.' 



So Beauclerk chattered as the flag fell, his words reach- 



