ook at those quarters. And a
real tryer he is, too, and as good-tempered as a lamb. I always knew we
should do great things some day with one of the Blenheim colts, but I
never expected anything quite as good as this."

A quarter of an hour later the two left the box. So far as Fielden could
see, Raffle had not overestimated the chances of the Blenheim colt. If
everything went well for the next three months, Sir George's fortunes
would be restored and there would be no more poverty at Harefield Park.

Fielden was extravagant in his praise, but there was no answering
enthusiasm upon Raffle's part. He was moody and thoughtful. There was
something almost guilty in the glance that he turned upon Fielden.

"What's the matter?" the latter asked.

"No man ever yet did a foolish thing without being found out," Raffle
muttered. "Let's walk across the park where we can be alone, because
there is something I must say to you. If you hadn't turned up yet, Mr.
Harry, it would have been all right, but seeing you have turned up, why,
it's all wrong and I am bound to tell you. When you went away, you left
your affairs in a muddle. There was money coming to you from
Weatherby's, though perhaps you didn't know it, and up to this year they
have kept up your subscriptions to one or two races, the Derby amongst
others. Oh, I knew it, and I am going to tell you now why I kept the
knowledge to myself. The year you went away so sudden you nominated more
than one colt for the Derby and, of course, the money was all right.
Well, after you disappeared and they said you was dead, nothing seemed
to matter and I thought no more about things. Sir George took over your
'osses, and it was only when this Blenheim colt began to shape so well
that I began to ask myself a few questions. It was easy to bamboozle Sir
George, because he is the worst man of business in the world. And I can
prove every bit of it, sir; I can prove every word I am saying. And
therefore it comes about that this Blenheim colt--this one that's going
to win the Derby--belongs to you, or at any rate he was nominated in
your name, which comes to the same thing. I daresay you will ask me why
I have done this, and why I kept the secret, and I'll tell you. I really
did it for the sake of Miss May. I would do anything for her, anything
to put Sir George on his legs again. You see, I thought you was dead and
out of the way and, after all said and done, I was doing nobody any harm
by keepi