NO. 5
"That's it," Phillips exclaimed. "I think we've got it right at last. We
know by the evening paper that Dandy won the Longhill Handicap, which
was the three o'clock race at Mirst Park to-day. We also know that Dandy
is No. 5 on the _Sportsman_ list, all of which goes to prove our case.
It is a smart bit of business, isn't it?"
"Exceedingly smart," Fielden said, "and, to some extent, risky. Whoever
sends the message from Mirst Park is certainly a very good judge of
racing. That telephone signal must have been started before the horse
was past the post."
"Oh, I don't know," Phillips argued. "In a very tight race they would
have to wait to see what the judge had to say. But I am sure that either
of us could spot the winner in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred within
fifty lengths of the post. Therefore, the result would be known in
London and signalled into the Post Club practically at the same instant
that the race was over. I think we shall know how to deal with Mr.
Copley now."
"What are you going to do?" Fielden asked.
"That depends upon circumstances. I don't mind telling you, when I first
came home and found Copley in an apparently good position, I intended to
make money out of him. I didn't feel so keen upon revenge as I used to
feel. It would have been no great satisfaction to me to get him ten
years on the Breakwater, and, besides, I should have had to go out to
the Cape and waste several months there. That is why I decided to hit
him through his pocket. But I had to be careful, because I had a
dangerous man to deal with and I didn't relish the idea of a prosecution
for blackmail. That is one of the reasons why I went into this business.
When I speak, I shall lay Copley by the heels without taking any trouble
and probably without appearing in the matter. I shall have the
satisfaction of sending him to gaol, and I shan't have to go out of the
country at all."
"You can't make anything out of this," Fielden reminded him.
"Of course not. If I were to go to Copley to-day and tell him what I had
discovered he would give me a few thousand pounds to keep my mouth shut
and, sooner or later, when the dodge is found out, as it must be, I
should figure in the dock with the others. It is too dangerous a game.
Still, when I come to think of it, sir, you are somewhat in my debt."
"Perhaps I am," Fielden admitted. "But I don't see what special favour
you have done me----"
"By getting rid of Raymond Copley," Phillips smiled. "I couldn't have
served you better. We shall have him out of the way anyhow. Later, when
you find yourself in a good position again, I will ask you to give me a
responsible post in your stables. Oh, it will all come right, sir. You
ought to win a big stake over the Derby, if you play your cards right,
and the Blenheim colt will be worth a small fortune."
"What have I to do with the horse?" Fielden asked.
"I know all about that, sir," Phillips said cheerfully. "Never mind
where I had my information. I am half a gipsy and my mother's tribe pick
up news from all sorts of unlikely quarters. A lad who used to be in
your stables told me the story. Nobody else would have believed him but
me. I can give you chapter and verse if you like, but that would only be
wasting time, and I can guess what Copley's game is, too. See if I don't
prove to be a true prophet. The Blenheim colt will be sure to show signs
of to-day's race; indeed, he is a marvel if he does any good during the
rest of his career as a three year-old. But, then, the horse is a
marvel. Still, very few of us know that, and we shall be able to back
him for the Derby at our own price within the next few days. I will
stick on the horse every farthing I can rake together. If I could only
get a couple of thousand pounds I could make a fortune. And you ought to
make a fortune, too. You told me that you could find that sum, if
necessary, and seeing that you have it in your power to prevent the
Blenheim colt from being scratched you will be flying in the face of
Providence if you turn your back on a chance like this."
Fielden looked at his companion in some perplexity. He was astonished to
find that Phillips knew so much. Whence did the man derive his
information? But there never was a gipsy yet who was not fond of a
horse. The various clans roam all over the country, and very little that
is going on escapes their sharp black eyes and there is, besides, a sort
of freemasonry amongst them. But it mattered little whence Phillips'
information came, for he had certainly got it. He was correct in every
detail, too, and for the first time Fielden began to see his way. He
could lay his hands upon a couple of thousand pounds, and before the
week was out he knew that the Blenheim colt would be at any price in the
market that a backer needed. Two thousand pounds in itself was not much
to lose. It would leave him only a little worse off than he was at
present. On the other hand, it might bring him in enough to start life
again as a rich man. He was thinking of May Haredale and all the
brilliant possibilities in that quarter. He could stop this vile
conspiracy. It was for him to say what the future of the Blenheim colt
was, and he could do this without arousing any gossip or giving the
public any chance for spicy scandal. When the right moment came he could
go to Sir George and inform him that he had no control whatever over the
colt. Sir George might bluster and Copley might threaten, but their
threats would be in vain. In the long run Sir George would benefit and
May would be free from the persecutions of a scoundrel and Fielden would
be in a position to offer her a luxurious home. He had learnt his
lesson, too. He was no longer the careless and extravagant youth who had
left England more or less under a cloud.
He was aroused from his reverie by questions from Phillips.
"Really, I beg pardon," he said, "but, for the moment, I was thinking
about something else."
"Oh, I understand that," Phillips said with a dry smile. "But we haven't
finished. Our case is not complete. We must know whether there is any
big wagering on the three o'clock race this afternoon in the Post Club.
To get my facts I have brought Major Carden over here on purpose. I have
paid his expenses to and from Germany, and I understand he wishes to
return to-night, if possible. Let's go on to our hotel and wait for him.
But I must tell you that Carden knows nothing. He thinks I have some
deep scheme on for making money and so long as I pay him for his
information he is satisfied. You had better leave all questions to me."
Fielden was willing enough to do so. To some degree he was not pleased
to be mixed up in this business, though it gave him a hold over Copley.
They had hardly reached their hotel before the Major came in. He made
no objection to Phillips' offer of refreshment. They talked for a few
minutes on indifferent topics and then Phillips went to the point.
"I suppose you've got my cheque," he said, "or you would not have been
here to-day. I hope it wasn't inconvenient."
"It was devilish inconvenient," the Major said in his florid way. "But
as you are willing to pay I don't mind. Now I am ready to give you all
the information you need. Please don't be long because I have a train to
catch before five."
"Then we needn't waste more time," Phillips said. "I suppose you were in
the Post Club all the afternoon."
"My dear sir, I lunched there and I've only just come away. I left a lot
of people there. Rickerby was there, with three or four more of the
gilded plungers, including Selwyn. As to the first and second race----"
"Oh, hang the first and second race," Phillips cried impatiently. "It is
the three o'clock race at Mirst Park that I am interested in. Was there
any heavy wagering going on, and can you tell me who was betting? That's
all I want to know."
The Major went into detail. There had been a certain amount of business
over the three o'clock race, but sundry heavy wagers had been deferred
almost to the last moment. A large amount of chaff had gone on between
one particular plunger and Selwyn and his satellites over a horse called
the Dandy. Dandy had been a rank outsider and had only cropped up in the
betting at the eleventh hour, so to speak. A quarter of an hour before
the race there had been no takers. Then the argument grew more heated
and finally Selwyn had laid several wagers against Dandy at a thousand
to thirty. All this had taken place, so far as the Major could guess,
whilst the race was in progress. There was something like consternation
amongst the bookmakers when the news came that Dandy had won the
Longhill Handicap by three lengths. Altogether it had been a dramatic
afternoon.
"And that's about all I can tell you," the Major concluded. "If you want
me again, give me more notice, please. I really must be going."
He took up his hat and swaggered from the room, leaving Phillips
apparently very well pleased.
"Our case is complete," he said. "The rest is in your hands."