several tape machines, which bring the result of the day's racing
directly from the course. Great wagers are constantly being made and
sometimes enormous bets effected even after the horses have been
dispatched by the starter.

Till after lunch the club is very quiet as a rule. On the first day of
the Mirst Park Meeting not more than half a dozen racing men were in the
dining-room. At a little table near the door sat the Major and his
guest, discussing a dainty luncheon to the accompaniment of a choice
brand of champagne. The Major was beaming. This was a pastime after his
own heart, and seeing that the luncheon was costing him nothing he was
doing the thing very lavishly indeed. There was something almost regal
in the way he spoke to the waiters. His manner was bland and florid,
and, beyond all was the consciousness of the five-pound note in his
pocket which Phillips had given him to pay for the repast. They sat for
some little time, when the door was flung violently open and a large man
in an impossible waistcoat came into the dining-room.

Full-bodied and scarlet, he had an air of prosperity and in an
aggressive way suggested money. Most persons in the sporting world were
familiar with that huge personage in the striking waistcoat, for it was
none other than Mr. Rickerby, of a firm of turf accountants, who
advertised that they recognized no limit. In early life Mr. Rickerby, or
Rick, as his friends styled him, had been a butcher. He had failed at
that principally because he spent most of his time backing horses or
arranging prize-fights. After he had passed through the Bankruptcy Court
he began with a small silver book and, having a real genius for
figures, together with a striking presence, an enormous voice and
amazing audacity which amounted almost to simplicity, he soon made
headway in his new profession. In a short time he took a partner who had
been a smart accountant, and now had a suite of palatial offices in the
Strand, where he kept a large staff of clerks, and where telephone
messages were pouring in almost day and night. Rickerby was a leviathan,
and though he by no means despised the small fish that came into his
net, revelled in big bets and dramatic wagers.

He nodded to the Major with a mixture of insolent familiarity and
fawning politeness. Occasionally the Major was of use to him. Besides,
Carden was well connected and Mr. Rickerby had a profound admiration for
the aristocracy. He would have pas