be,"
said Wilson. "How are you feeling now?"

"Thank you, I was never better in my life," Montgomery answered.

"By Gad, I like your nerve!" said Wilson, who was himself flushed and
uneasy. "You'll give us a fight for our money, come what may.
That place on the right is the office, and that has been set aside as
the dressing and weighing room."

The carriage drove up to it amidst the shouts of the folk upon the
hillside. Lines of empty carriages and traps curved down upon the
winding road, and a black crowd surged round the door of the ruined
factory. The seats, as a huge placard announced, were five shillings,
three shillings, and a shilling, with half-price for dogs. The takings,
deducting expenses, were to go to the winner, and it was already evident
that a larger stake than a hundred pounds was in question. A babel of
voices rose from the door, The workers wished to bring their dogs in
free. The men scuffled. The dogs barked. The crowd was a whirling,
eddying pool surging with a roar up to the narrow cleft which was its
only outlet.

The brake, with its salmon-coloured streamers and four reeking horses,
stood empty before the door of the office; Wilson, Purvis, Fawcett and
Montgomery passed in.

There was a large, bare room inside with square, clean patches upon the
grimy walls, where pictures and almanacs had once hung. Worn linoleum
covered the floor, but there was no furniture save some benches and a
deal table with an ewer and a basin upon it. Two of the corners were
curtained off. In the middle of the room was a weighing-chair.
A hugely fat man, with a salmon tie and a blue waistcoat with birds'-eye
spots, came bustling up to them. It was Armitage, the butcher and
grazier, well known for miles round as a warm man, and the most liberal
patron of sport in the Riding. "Well, well," he grunted, in a thick,
fussy, wheezy voice, "you have come, then. Got your man? Got your man?

"Here he is, fit and well. Mr. Montgomery, let me present you to Mr.
Armitage."

"Glad to meet you, sir. Happy to make your acquaintance. I make bold
to say, sir, that we of Croxley admire your courage, Mr. Montgomery, and
that our only hope is a fair fight and no favour, and the best man win.
That's our sentiments at Croxley."

"And it is my sentiment, also," said the assistant.

"Well, you can't say fairer than that, Mr. Montgomery. You've taken a
large contrac' in hand, but a large contrac' may be carried t