There was no answer.

She descended and tried the door.

It was locked.

“That’s all right, Boy,” called a quiet voice.  “It’s only me.”

“Mr. Silver,” she cried.  “What on earth are you up to?”

“After a rat.”

“A queer time to choose.”

“Yes,” he said.  “He’s a big ’un.  I’m sitting for him.”

“Good-night then,” she called, and ran up the ladder, heralded by the swift and ghostly Maudie.

The trap-door over Four-Pound-the-Second’s box was open as always.  She peeped down on to the back of the horse and Monkey Brand, busy by the light of his lantern, arranging a pile of horse-blankets in the corner on which to sleep.

“Where’s Billy Bluff?” she asked.

“Just gone outside a minute, Miss.”

Four-Pound-the-Second moved restlessly.

“Give him some water,” she directed, “and settle him down as soon as you can.”

“Very good, Miss,” the little jockey answered.

* * * * *

It was an hour later that the stable-door clicked and Joses entered.

He was wearing rope-soled shoes, and he moved softly behind the long line of horses.

In his slouch hat and loose cloak he looked like a stage conspirator.

Monkey Brand was nodding on an upturned bucket.

As the fat man entered the loose-box, the great horse turned a shining eye on him and whinnied.

Monkey blinked, stirred, and grunted: 

“’Ello!”

He smelt strongly of whiskey.

The tout, unheeding him, produced a twitch.

But Monkey rose with heavy eyes and jerked it irritably out of the other’s hand.

“None o’ that,” he said.

He nodded to the open trap-door overhead.

“She sleeps up there, don’t she?” whispered the fat man.

“She never sleeps,” muttered the other.  “Got the stuff?” he asked drowsily.

Joses produced a bottle from the pocket of his cloak.

Monkey looked around.

“Where’s a blurry bucket?” he asked, and with faltering hands inverted the one on which he had been sitting.

“Put a drop of water in,” urged the fat man.

The little man obeyed, moving uncertainly.

“Is he dry?” asked Joses.

“I wish I’d only ’alf his thirst,” drowsed the other.

The fat man removed the cork from the bottle.  Monkey seized it rudely and sniffed it.

“What is it?” he asked sullenly.

“Nothing to hurt him,” said Joses soothingly.  “Just take the shine out of him for a day or two.”

The jockey was so drunk that he needed humouring.  The tout cursed his faulty judgment in having given the little man money to spend before the deed had been done.

Monkey let his heavy-lidded eyes rest on the other.  He was breathing almost stertorously.  Then he pushed the bottle back toward Joses.