hich the captain evidently considered superfluous as
between an army officer and a police detective. "Sorry I shan't be
able to remain and study your interesting methods, however. Should
have been rather pleased to do so, otherwise."

"And I for my part should have been pleased to have you do so,
Captain, I assure you," replied Cleek, the first intonation of
his voice causing the captain to twitch up his head and stare at
him as if he were a monstrosity. "Shall you be leaving us, then,
before the investigation is concluded?"

"Well, I'm blest! Why, how in the world--oh--er--yes. Obliged to
go. Wire from London this afternoon. Regiment sails for India in
two days. Beastly nuisance. Shall miss the Derby and all that. By
the way, Norcross, if this chap succeeds in finding the filly in
time for the race, that little bet of ours stands, of course?"

"Of course," agreed the major. "Ready are you, Mr. Cleek? Right you
are--come along." And he forthwith led the way into the stable
where Chocolate Maid, like a perfect horse in French bronze, stood
munching hay in her box as contentedly as if there were no such
things in the world as touts and swindlers and horse thieves, and
her companion of two days ago still shared the quarters with her.

"Gad! but she's a beauty and no mistake, Major," said Cleek as he
went over and, leaning across the low barrier of the enclosure,
patted the mare's shoulder and smoothed her glossy neck. "I don't
wonder that you and her ladyship have such high hopes for her future.
The creature seems well nigh perfect."

"Yes, she is a pretty good bit of horseflesh," replied he, "but not
to be compared with Highland Lassie in speed, wind, or anything.
There _she_ is, Mr. Cleek; and it's as natural as life, the beauty!"

Speaking, he waved his hand toward a framed picture of the missing
animal--a coloured gift plate which had been given away with the
Easter number of _The Horseman_, and which Farrow had had glazed
and hung just over her box. Cleek, following the direction of the
indicating hand, looked up and saw the counterfeit presentment of a
splendidly proportioned sorrel with a splash of white on the flank
and a white "stocking" on the left forefoot.

"A beauty, as you say, Major," agreed he, "but do you know that I,
for my part, prefer the charms of Chocolate Maid? May be bad judgment
upon my part but--there you are. What a coat! What a colour! What
splendid legs, the beauty! Mind if I step in fo