184 Too Clever 



ordered slices of different sizes to be brought him by 

 means of requests on oblong slips of green paper, and 

 did not realise how the luxury was diminishing. He had 

 a right to live up to a liberal sum, and he had lived up 

 to about three times the amount ; and this was the more 

 unfortunate as he had lately perceived the fact, mirrored 

 in the bright eyes of his pretty cousin Violet, that life 

 has in it worthier ambitions than winning races or leav- 

 ing the card table with a few hundreds to the good. 

 How sweet Violet would look tripping about the grounds 

 of his place, the Hurst, wandering round the old-world 

 gardens, with their wealth of scent and colour, behind 

 the sheltering walls of peach blossoms and purple plums, 

 and, in fact — but his reverie was interrupted by the sight 

 of his trainer, old Bill Weekes, across whom he stumbled 

 while his thoughts were far away. 



' Good day, sir. Had you a bet ? I'm afraid you 

 did not back the winner. You would have been sure to 

 be on the favourite ' — his owner was a special friend of 

 Dane's, as Weekes knew — ' and certainly Smeuse had no 

 chance on her public running since the spring. She's a 

 nice mare, too,' the old man added. 



' Yes, Mr. Moss did not fancy her much, he told me, 

 and won very little. He thought the favourite was cer- 

 tain to beat him,' Dane replied, and Weekes looked at 

 him shrewdly. 



* Is Mr. Moss a friend of yours, sir ? ' he asked. 



' Oh, yes, he's a great friend of mine,' Dane 

 answered, with youthful simplicity. At his age the line 

 between acquaintances and friends was indefinite, and in 

 his pleasant, easy-going way he liked most people he 

 came in contact with if they were affable to him, as they 

 usually were, he found. He had lost 1,500?. on the 



