al man.

Major Kent and Dr. O'Grady walked into Ballymoy together at about
half past two on the day of Mr. Billing's arrival. They had lunched at
Portsmouth Lodge, the Major's house. Dr. O'Grady had given his opinion
of a new filly which the Major had bought a few days before. It was
a very unfavourable opinion, and the Major, who had the greatest
confidence in the doctor's judgment, was duly depressed.

"If I were you, Major," said the doctor, "I'd sell that one at once.
She's no good."

"I'd sell her fast enough," said the Major gloomily, "if I could find a
buyer."

"It was L30 you gave for her in the fair?" said the doctor.

"It was; and if you're right about her she's not worth the half of it.
She's not worth L12."

"I happen to know that fellow Geraghty," said the doctor. "The man who
stuck you with her. He's a patient of mine. I pulled him through his
last attack of d. t.'s so I know all there is to know about him. He'd
stick an archangel. If he happened to be selling him a pair of wings it
would turn out afterwards that the feathers were dropping out."

"If you know him," said the Major, "you know a blackguard."

"After sticking you with the filly," said the doctor, "he spent the
evening drinking in the hotel."

"He would."

"And the more he drank the bigger the price was that he said he got from
you. When Doyle turned him out in the end he was saying that he had
your cheque for L60 in his pocket. I don't suppose Doyle believed that.
Nobody would. But he probably thinks you gave L40 or L45."

"All I gave was L30. But I don't see that it matters what Doyle
believes."

"It does matter," said Dr. O'Grady. "If Doyle believes you gave L40 for
the filly, and if you were to offer her to him for L35 he'd think he was
getting a bargain and he'd jump at it. Doyle's just the kind of fool who
thinks he knows all about horses and so he's quite an easy man to stick.
Come on now, and we'll try."

Major Kent was in all ordinary affairs of life a strictly honourable
man. But horses are not ordinary affairs. It is on record that a bishop,
an Irishman and therefore intensely religious, once sold a thoroughly
unsound horse to an archdeacon for a large price. The archdeacon had a
high opinion of the bishop beforehand, regarding him as a saintly man
of childlike simplicity. He had a much higher opinion of him after he
understood the failings of the animal he had bought. He then respected
the bishop for his shrewdness.