A Good Thing 167 



' I shall back you, whatever they say about the other. 

 It's a good bit of a pull having you up against Barnes, 

 old chap ! ' 



* I don't know ; I dare say he'll do well enough. He's 

 been down riding gallops, and he'll soon pick up. I 

 shall have a hundred on mine, but I'm sure they were 

 very confident. They're off,' he continued, looking 

 towards where the hurdle-jumpers were drawn up in 

 line, and as the flag fell, ' I'll take 4 to 1 ! ' came from 

 the ring. ' Hawke's sure to win, I suppose. Halloa, 

 Frey's down — no ! well saved ! ' York said, noting the 

 features of the race as he spoke. ' Cock Pheasant's 

 beaten — they're slipping along, aren't they ? Old 

 Arthur's horse is going well, isn't it ? It's a bad 'un, 

 but it's wonderfully fit. No ! It's all over. Hawke 

 wins ! ' So it was. Two hurdles from home the others 

 were dead settled, and the favourite, coming on, won in a 

 canter by a good dozen lengths. 



' I must go and see about weighing,' York said, as 

 the horses that had just run returned to the paddock. 

 ' Do you mind putting me on a hundred ? I've no idea 

 how they'll bet.' 



' Certainly ; I'll do the best I can. Lay odds if I 

 have to, I suppose ? Good luck, old chap ! I shall back 

 you, whatever they say.' 



' I'm betting on the match. I'll take 2 to 1 ! ' is the 

 cry which Southey hears as he heads for the ring. 



' What about ? ' he asks of a bookmaker he knows. 



' Six to four bar one ; six to four Dewdrop. I'll take 

 two to one,' the layer replies. He was, as it were, wound 

 up to shout out the first part of his sentence before he 

 could make answer to the question. 



Perhaps it will be as well to let the market settle down 



