She flashed round on him.

“So you think Monkey’s selling us?” she said.

Jim Silver looked sheepish and sullen.

But whether the girl’s attitude was due to the fact that he was still in disgrace or to her resentment that he should be telling tales, he did not know.

* * * * *

The young man’s affairs in London were almost wound up, and he was making his home at Putnam’s.

About the place, early and late, he became aware that Joses was haunting the barns and out-houses.  More than once in the lengthening days he saw the fat man vanishing round a corner in the dusk.

Taking the bull by the horns, he spoke to Monkey Brand about it.

“Why not turn Billy Bluff loose after dark?” he suggested.

Monkey was stubborn.

“Can’t be done, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t leave Four-Pound’s box, sir,” the jockey answered, turning in his lips.  “Else the ’orse frets himself into a sweat.”

Silver was dissatisfied.  He was still more so when two days later after dark he came on two men in close communion in the lane at the back of the Lads’ Barn.

They were standing in the shadow of the Barn out of the moon.  But that his senses were alert, and his suspicions roused, he would not have detected them, for they hushed into sudden silence as he passed.

He flashed an electric torch on to them.

The two were Joses and Monkey Brand.

He was not surprised, nor, it seemed, were they.

Monkey Brand touched his hat.

“Good-night, sir,” he said cordially.

“Good-night,” said Silver coldly.  “Good-night, Mr. Joses!”

The tout rumbled ironically.

Silver passed on into the yard, and the two were left together in the dark.

“On the bubble,” said Joses.

“I don’t wonder, eether,” answered Monkey.  “Four-Pound’s got to win it for him.”

“Hundred thousand, isn’t it?” said the fat man.

“That is it,” said Monkey.  “Guv’nor won’t part for less.”

“What’s that?” asked Joses, stupefied.

“Silver!” answered Monkey.  “He’s got to put a hundred thousand down, or he don’t get her.  Old man’s no mug.”

“Don’t get who?” asked the other.

“Minie,” shortly.

The fat man absorbed the news.

“Hundred thousand down,” continued Monkey.  “That’s the contrak—­writ out in red ink on parchment.  It’s a fortune.”

Joses was recovering himself.

“It’s nothing to what the mare’ll carry all said,” he mused.  “American’s bankin’ on her to the last dollar, let alone the Three J’s....  There’s more in it than money, too.  There’s pride and sentiment, the old animosities.”  He added after a pause—­“Half a million’s a lot of money though.  There’ll be pickings, too—­for those that deserve them.”

Monkey moved restlessly.