ted
beard--an aristocratic type which seemed out of its element among the
rough, hearty, noisy dealers who surrounded him. This, then, was Mr.
Mancune, for whom the second telegram was intended.

As he opened it, tearing it open with a feverish haste, Dodds could
perceive that it was as bulky as the first one. He observed also, from
the delay in reading it, that it was also in some sort of cipher.
The gentleman did not write down any translation of it, but he sat for
some time with his nervous, thin fingers twitching amongst the hairs of
his white beard, and his shaggy brows bent in the deepest and most
absorbed attention whilst he mastered the meaning of it. Then he sprang
suddenly to his feet, his eyes flashed, his cheeks flushed, and in his
excitement he crumpled the message up in his hand. With an effort he
mastered his emotion, put the paper into his pocket, and walked out of
the room.

This was enough to excite a less astute and imaginative man than
Worlington Dodds. Was there any connection between these two messages,
or was it merely a coincidence? Two men with strange names receive two
telegrams within a few minutes of each other, each of considerable
length, each in cipher, and each causing keen emotion to the man who
received it. One turned pale. The other sprang excitedly to his feet.
It might be a coincidence, but it was a very curious one. If it was not
a coincidence, then what could it mean? Were they confederates who
pretended to work apart, but who each received identical orders from
some person at a distance? That was possible, and yet there were
difficulties in the way. He puzzled and puzzled, but could find no
satisfactory solution to the problem. All breakfast he was turning it
over in his mind.

When breakfast was over he sauntered out into the market square, where
the horse sale was already in progress. The yearlings were being sold
first--tall, long-legged, skittish, wild-eyed creatures, who had run
free upon the upland pastures, with ragged hair and towsie manes, but
hardy, inured to all weathers, and with the makings of splendid hunters
and steeplechasers when corn and time had brought them to maturity.
They were largely of thoroughbred blood, and were being bought by
English dealers, who would invest a few pounds now on what they might
sell for fifty guineas in a year, if all went well. It was legitimate
speculation, for the horse is a delicate creature, he is afflicted with