O UK No VEL ^ a; n o , LUineSpon ing Novel jor^A SHARP, Author of &.,:<;;>.$ Longford, TOM Kiti-s, &c dr^. RV; AO.NEW, vv co., 10, /""BERKELEY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OP V CALIFORNIA WHATS THE ODDS? Also by the same Author, ONE-AND-THREE t bfeiingnxslpb & rnt FICTOR NOGO. Price One Shilling. STRAPMORE! t gt0mviiu Jbi) Price One Shilling. THE RIDE TO KHIVA AND K. BUL. Extended from " PUNCH." Price One Shilling. OUR NOVEL SHILLING SERIES." WHATS THE ODDS? OR, BY F. C. BURNAND. AUTHOR OF "HAPPY THOUGHTS," "THE RIDE TO KHIVA,' "THE MODERN SANDFORD AND MERTON," " STRAPMORE," ETC. LONDON: BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET. 18/9. LONDON I BRADBURY, AGNEVV, & CO., PRINTERS, WH1TEFRIARS PREFACE. DEAR SMART, Who the "Major Jawley Sharp" the supposed author of this novel might have been, it is now impossible to ascertain. I vvould not for one moment identify myself with a person who was capable of deceiving a too confiding editor, as he appears to have deceived the Editor of " Punch" where this novel first appeared. My idea 011 the subject is bnt I had better keep it to myself y as y after all, ideas are scarce, and tJiough there may be more ivhere that came from, yet there may not be, and one must provide for such a contingency. In this re-issue I have been careful to preserve intact the zuhole correspondence betiveen 060 PREFACE. this fictitious Major J. S. and the Editor, also your own generous letter at the finish. Wishing you many happy returns of the day it is not your birthday, but why shouldn't you have many returns of it whatever it is ? I am, Yours most sincerely, F. C. BURNAND. CAPTAIN HAWLEY SMART, &c. &c. CONTENTS. PREFACE INTRODUCTION CHAPTER I. " STRIKING HIM WITH A FEATHER 7 ' . . . CHAPTER II. WHICH IS THE FAVOURITE? CHAPTER III. " THE JEDDINGTON DODD LOT " ..... r 3 CHAPTER IV. "CONSPIRATORS" ........ 2 7 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. "THE HUNT is UP" 34 CHAPTER VI. "THE TREBLE EVENT" . . . . . . . 43 CHAPTER VII. "SETTLING THE FIRST EVENT" . . . . .56 CHAPTER VIII. " THE TREBLE EVENT " . . . . . . 66 CHAPTER THE LAST. " TAKEN AND OFF !" 76 TO THE PUBLIC . 82 EPIGRAPH , 93 INTRODUCTION. (The following Correspondence, having reference to the production of a new Sporting Novel in this Journal, is now placed before our Readers, in the hope that they will kindly give it their earliest attention, and accept it as a sufficient Preface to the projected Work. ) SIR, HAVING had the great pleasure of meeting you at a friend's house, where the conversation after dinner turned on Fox-hunting and kindred matters, I was struck by a remark of yours to the effect that " you thought the Proprietors of Bell's Life had never made such a step in the right direction as when they engaged. Captain Hawley Smart," Author of Two Kisses, in three volumes " Very short allowance, by the way," as I observed to you, Sir, at the time "to INTRODUCTION. contribute a serial Sporting Novel to their paper/' You may remember, among the other capital things I uttered on that occasion, how I said that Bell's Life wanted a fillip, and it had got an Alexander. By which I meant but perhaps this is unnecessary to explain to you, Sir, who, I am bound to say, though you smiled, did not seem to understand the epigram ; for an epigram it was, if ever there was one on this earth. However, passons, et a nos moutons. (French, you'll observe, Sir.) You then went on to declare that you would give a great deal if you could only get a Sporting Novel in the pages of P ch. I turned that over in my mind. The hour was come and the man ; or, to put it more sportingly, the man who could tell you "what time of day it was/' was before you at that moment, or rather, to be literal and correct, at your side. You could not have told, INTRODUCTION. xi from my calm manner of cracking walnuts, what was within my shell at that moment. The laughter rang on, and the shouts went up, and the wine went round, but I was silent. To paraphrase the well-known song, "And the Cracking of my own Nnt was the only Sound I heardr When I got home, Sir, I dashed at it. It was in me ; out it must come. Yes, there ivas a Sporting Novel in me somewhere, and so you may look for it shortly. A good candle needs no bushel ; and before many hours are past the first chapters shall be in your intelligent hands. I believe you, Sir, are ready to admit your ignorance of sporting matters entirely. Now, though I say it who perhaps should not, yet if I don't, who will ? except perhaps my good friend, Captain Hawley Smart, whose generous nature (there is real Freemasonry among all true sportsmen) would be only too delighted to xii INTRODUCTION. welcome an honest rival in the field where he has already won his spurs his " Latchfords," as we of the craft style 'em but, as I was saying of myself, there is not in England a man who knows more about Sporting than myself; and but that there cannot be two Richmonds in the field I should say Bell's Life y not Field at the same time, I would long ago have complied with your request, which was to the effect that I should "throw my leg over that spicy tit Pegasus, pluck a quill out of his wings, crack my caduceus, give him his head, and clear the Rubicon" (which was precious little more than a muddy ditch, and wanted "clearing" as much as my bagful of scents and cigars does, when I am de retour from the Continong), "at a single bound." * * Note by the Editor. Several times during the perusal of this communication have we been on the INTRODUCTION. Where my dear friend and fellow-sporting novelist, Hawley, would have been when once point of laying it down, and deliberating as to whether we should consider ourselves bound, by any casual statement made, over nuts, after dinner at a friend's house. " And Brutus is an honourable man ; so are we all, all honourable men" and, indeed, were it not for this firm conviction, on our part, of our intend- ing Contributor's integrity and good faith excellent qualities , even when brought into play under a mistaken sense of duty we should not be inclined to proceed any further with a gentleman who suggests (to say the least of it) that we formulated a request to the effect that he would "throw his leg over that spicy tit, Pegasus " good heavens ! and that " he should "crack his caduceus" Now we do know what a caduceus is, and it is most improbable (of course not absolutely impossible, if in mere playfulness, just to moisten the nuts, though of this we protest, warmly protest, we have no recollection whatever) that we, in our senses, should have ever asked Major Jawley Sharp to commit any such absurdity as is implied in xiv INTRODUCTION. I had taken up the running, it is not for my modesty to say. He might have just caught the operation of " cracking a caduceus? On the other hand, we must be honest, and admit that, as we were engaged on walnuts at the moment, something about " cracking " might have escaped our lips, and subse- quently our memory. We have, ere now, cracked both jokes and walnuts at a sitting, and remember neither the one nor the other in detail. But we are nothing if not classical; and that we ever on any occasion mixed up a caduceus with a hunting-whip, is what we are unwilling for one minute to allow. There was probably an interval between the two conversa- tions, and, perhaps, our esteemed Son of Mars and Votary of Diana a description of the sportsman- warrior, which is at once classical and correct, and therefore, in our own scholarly style carried the spoils of our conversation with him, so to speak, to his tent, and there, afterwards, tried to fit the pieces together, and produce something like the original. Again, having brought in Pegasus and the caduceus, we should never have mentioned " the Rubicon " in the INTRODUCTION. xv sight of the silver thread in Pegasus' tail, as we popped over the double Bullfinch, flew the post and rails (including the sleepers), and dis- appeared from view. "D'ye ken John Piel?" W-w-whoop ! and away ! " For the sound of the horn" &c. That's the poetry for my money, and this will be the sporting novel for yours. Isn't the hunting season commencing, and am I not up to time ? Let my fellow-sporting novelist look to 'his laurels ! And, by the way, when I had a cottage in the country, we found a Fox in the Laurels. And now, Sir, Tallyho f and I can't say fairer than that, except that, if you choose to repudiate, I shall send this same breath. Reluctantly constrained to pause and say this much in our own defence, as against the worthy Major's reminiscences, we resume our perusal of his letter in a conciliatory spirit, and shall be pleased, if we see our way to it, to give the gallant sportsman a place in our columns. ED. INTRODUCTION. invaluable work of mine to Reynard's Miscel- lany. But you won't, I know you won't. Only please do not attempt to edit me I mean unless you are thoroughly up in sporting phrases and sporting life generally it would be, on your part, a thankless and hopeless task. " Trust me" as Mr. Millais' picture said. I know all about it. Nunquam dormio ! omnis oculus meus ! And let our cry be "Fox" et prceterea Nil ! Yours to hounds, JAWLEY SHARP ( Late of the Indi Spensibles). P.S. Ours was a crack corps, and the best whist-players in the Service. By Jove, Sir, we've seen life ! But not a word against our moral character ! We lived amongst the Ayahs, the Nautches, and the Bayaderes, "Bayards parmi les Bayaderes^ sans peur et sans reprocJie? WHAT'S THE ODDS f at CHAPTER I. " STRIKING HIM WITH A FEATHER." IT was morning at Jeddington, the event of the year, the Derby, was just over, and the snow * From the Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. You've changed the name ! It was to have been A Hatful of Money. Why? Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. Friend of my youth, haven't you ever heard of changing your name for property ? Well, Sir, I think this Sporting Novel will be a better property under the new title. It is enough for me to think so ; but I will give a satisfac- torily artistic reason. Observe, it has a second title. WHAT'S THE ODDS? lay bright and sparkling like crystals on the ground. As usual, the Great Race of the year This is to attract those who never read anything but what is sensational ; and if The Dumb Jockey of Jed- dington doesn't fetch that section of the public, I'm dumb'd and I cannot put it less strongly or more genteelly than that. If, Sir, you only knew what trouble I've had to find out a place in England be- ginning with "J," so as to fit in, alliteratively, with " Jockey," you would be the last person to attempt finding a flaw in my title-deed, and the first to send me a congratulatory letter, containing a rouleau of real genuine "stuff" as we turfites call it. Now, Sir, I have been frank and free with you. " Honest Jawley" was always my name at school, and I am proud to say that, as long as I can manage it, it shall be my sobriquet through life. You must come down and spend a couple of months here with me. I've a lovely quiet horse for you just the thing. Say when. J. S. From the Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. Highly satisfactory. Get on. Your kind invitation I would WHAT'S THE ODDS? had been won by one of the Jeddington Lot born, bred, and trained in the Jeddington avail myself of with pleasure, only your letter does not bear your address ; and the elderly lady who opened the door in that siding out of Chapel Street West, where your name is engraved on the brass plate under the second bell handle, could give me no in- formation on the subject. Drop me a line here. Always ready to shake off the business cobwebs, and rush into the champagney air of the country. I do not care much about hunting ; but, if the nag is very quiet, no one would enjoy a morning on horseback more than would yours truly, THE EDITOR. Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. All right. Old woman in Chapel Street is a very old servant in our family. She's been with the Jawley Sharps for years, and her father and mother before her. Dear old lady ! I still retain her on my establishment for past services ; and, after all, you know, to belong to an old family engenders ties between master and servant which are unintelligible to the parvenu. Bless dear old Margery ! She's very deaf, and uncommonly B 2 WHAT'S THE ODDS? stables. It is not given to every man to win a Derby even once in a lifetime. Great men have lived and died and never won a Derby. Aristophanes and Lord George Bentinck are examples in point. But old Sir Thomas Dodd, Bart., had managed it. Regularly every year the Derby winner had come from Jeddington, and Sir Thomas Dodd had been the owner. sagacious. I don't think you'd get anything out of her, though she might out of you. I was annoyed she didn't show you into the dining-room, and give you luncheon when you called ; but the fact is, the little bachelor crib is in such disorder when I'm at my hunting quarters, that the good old soul was unpre- pared for visitors. Au revoir ! Mind you come down here. Everything ready for you gun, horse, dogs, and French cook and valet all to yourself? Say when y that's all merely say when. Yours, heartily, J. S. Reply by Editor to Major Jaw ley Sharp. Yes, I will say " when " if you will say " where" No country address, so I send this to Chapel Street West. ED. WffAT'S THE ODDS. But old Sir Thomas was not immortal, and having only a nephew, Sir Tommy Todd, Junior, the time arrived when the uncle was compelled by the stern monitor of the human race to make room for his nephew. Sir Tommy Dodd came into the estates- worth about sixty-five thousand a year (Land- tax redeemed) hampered only by one condi- tion, viz., That, if he did not lose three Derbys in succession, not merely by a neck, or a length, but by Jus horse coming in absolutely last of all, tlie whole property ivould pass at once to a near relative, the Honourable Pullman Carr, who would be saddled with precisely the same condition. If, after try- ing several other members of the family, the Derby was still being won by the Jeddington Lot, the property was to return to Sir Tommy Dodd, the same condition as before existing, and from him to the Honourable Pullman Carr, and so on again. Only there was this proviso, WHAT'S THE ODDS? that, if Sir Tommy should marry and there should appear a son and heir, then the Honour- able Pullman Carr would come into the property " but," so the wording of the will went, "Not before the Boy? Hard stipulations to come from the feathered goosequill in the nervous hand of the old, good, kind-hearted, generous, port-wine-drink- ing, sport-loving, venerable Baronet, who thus passed away, and, in making room for his nephew, had, indeed, struck him with a feather. CHAPTER II. WHICH IS THE FAVOURITE? ROUND the cheery fire in the fine old ances- tral Music Hall belonging to the Dodds, which had lately been fitted up with a sliding roof for the amusement of the guests in winter, sat a pleasant and aristocratic company. " Tommy," said the Honourable Pullman Carr, slowly puffing his regalia. " I'll lay you twenty thousand pounds to a sovereign that the Derby Loser is not in your stables this year." " Done ! " replied Sir Tommy. " Tommy Dodd! Tommy Dodd!" cried several voices from various corners of the hall, " on with you again ! " WHAT'S THE ODDS? " Done with you all at the price," said Sir Tommy, booking the bets. "And now," he added, " suppose we go and look at the lot." They all rose as one man. The sporting instinct was strong on them. " I'll go with you," exclaimed a light, ringing, musical voice. "Lady Di!" cried Sir Tommy, "why we shall be only too charmed." " Of course charmed," repeated the Honour- able Pullman, in his low sneering voice. Lady Di regarded him with superlative dis- dain. She was a marvellously handsome woman was Lady Diana Briteleigh, possessed originally of locks that the most raven-ous raven might have envied.* * There are several things I want to ask. I do not pretend to be a sporting man. But why should a " raven envy anyone's locks " ? I own to not being a skilled naturalist, but have ravens locks ? You who WHAT'S THE ODDS? To be a Blonde, however, she thought would suit her better. So Blonde she became, and perhaps to Black she would return. She was live so much in the country, (where ? by the way don't forget to send address next time) ought to know all these things, and you are, I've no doubt, perfectly correct. Secondly, how about the Derby being run in the winter? Such is your meaning, as I gather from your opening chapter, unless you only allude to that exceptional Derby, about four years or so ago, which was run in a snowstorm. Mind I don't pre- tend to any knowledge of sport myself, and trust implicitly to you. Only remember the eyes of the Sporting Public are on you. Yours truly, THE EDITOR. From Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. Dear EDDY. I never frequent a " Sporting Public." You won't pick up the real information there. Trust me. Pm in it. You're not. Come down here, and spend Sunday. Best of everything on hand. Yours ever, J.s. [But no address. ED.] io WHAT'S THE ODDS? highly popular with men, and, as a natural con- sequence, equally adored by her own sex. " Blonde is the Jeddington colour now, Tommy," she whispered, in her sweetest low tone. Hers was a rich contralto voice ; and her highest speaking-note was, to put it musi- cally, " C under line." "Yes," she used to say to her sparkling Mamma, " I am all down among the coals ; and my voice is more like Newcastle-under-Line than double C." She was still unmarried. Her Aunt, who had married the Russian Prince, Stepitoff, accompanied her everywhere, except on the piano. Hanging on Sir Thomas's other arm was the beautiful Brunette, Mrs. Asgood Azamyle, the youngest widow in the world, and the most fas- cinating woman in the country. Sir Thomas looked from one to the other, and pressed the fair arm of each alternately. WHAT'S THE ODDS? n " Where's poor Button, your Stud-Groom ? " asked Lady Di, as she passed, leaning on Sir Thomas's arm, through the door towards the Training Stables at the back of the house. " You have only to ask, and he will appear," replied Sir Thomas, producing a clear, bell-like whistle, by the most natural means possible. " How simple," exclaimed Mrs. Asgood Aza- myle, ecstatically; "you have everything at your fingers' ends." He pressed her gloved palm with his right hand, while with his left he warmly grasped the little eight-and-a-quarter kid that concealed from the prying gaze the delicately turned fingers of the lovely Lady Di. The Honourable Pullman Carr gave a low sneering laugh, as, linking his arm in that of the noble Italian sportsman, Count Farrago di Non- senza, he whispered maliciously, " Which is the favourite ? " 12 WHAT*S THE ODDS? At this instant the gay party was suddenly startled by a loud report, followed by a piercing shriek, issuing from the Training Stables. Sir Thomas burst open the door and ran into the yard. CHAPTER III. "THE JEDDINGTON DODD LOT." THE report that had so startled them was soon explained by Mr. Stringhalt, the accom- plished Trainer. " We've just been firing a Colt/' said Mr. Stringhalt. Sir Thomas Dodd was satisfied. "Mr. String- halt," he said, addressing his Trainer, "Don't fire any more Colts just now, because of the Ladies." "I won't, Sir Thomas," was the obsequious reply. " The fact is, that this would not have happened, only the fetlock caught in something, snapped, and the Colt went off of its own accord." WHAT'S THE ODDS f "Oh, do let us go all over the Stables! 5 ' exclaimed Lady Di Briteleigh, rapturously. " Oh, let's ! " exclaimed Mrs. Asgood Azamyle, not to be outdone by her brilliant rival. " How happy could I be with either ! " mur- mured Sir Thomas, as he bent his left eye on Lady Di, at the same time turning his right full on the attractive Mrs. Azamyle. The Honourable Pullman Carr frowned, and pinched Count Farrago's arm, who, not to be behindhand, retaliated with a kick. The Jeddington training -stables were a marvel of neatness. They were most con- veniently situated between the house and the race-course, where Sir Thomas had won so many Derbys. The Trainer beckoned to an elegant young man, who was lounging in a Japanese arm- chair, in dressing-gown and slippers, inhaling WHAT'S THE ODDS? 15 one of the choicest bandannas that money could procure. By his expansive shirt-front of the purest white, which formed an admirable set- ting for his large diamond studs, anyone could immediately tell what capacity their wearer filled in these Stables. Evidently he was the Stud Groom. With an easy bow he advanced, and proffered his services as cicerone to the party. It was a thoroughly sporting scene, as Mr. William Button (the Stud Groom) pointed out. In one corner there was a fine Dorking Hen laying the odds. In another, a sleek-coated Race -Horse was backing himself against a wall. A dead Mouse lay in the middle of the yard, and a fast-trotting Cob was walking over the corse. The temperature was per- fect, and the thermometer registered a dead heat. Mr. Stringhalt's family of ten children all 1 6 WHAT'S THE ODDS f of them of such a decided Japanese type as to have won them the name of " the Flat Race " lived over the Stables, and the butcher, who had just arrived, was carrying in the Nursery Steaks ; while Mrs. Stringhalt, a cheery, elderly woman, was putting the pot on. Just outside, where the garden joined the yard, the gar- deners were busily engaged in hedging, and Mr. Stringhalt's eldest boy was trying to train a horse-chestnut over a low fence ; while the second was watching a caterpillar on a mul- berry leaf, and asking his brother, " Will it spin, Obadiah ? will it spin ? " "Now," said Mr. William Button (who was as proud of the horses under his care as a grandmother of her youngest grandchild), "I will show you our Derby pets. First of all, you shall see our Twentybob Mare." He led the way towards the Pound. " Twentybob in the Pound," said the Stud WHAT'S THE ODDS? 17 Groom, admiringly. " And you won't get more change out of any horse than that." Everyone admired her massive ribs, her short, curved back, and her long silver tail. "A little slipped in the forehand,'* observed the Honourable Pullman Carr, quietly. " You know, Sir, where the fault lies," returned the Stud Groom, who had some respect for the Honourable P.'s opinion. And they walked on towards that peculiar building which, in all training stables, is called the Mansion House. Here they naturally ex- pected to see the Mare. They were not disap- pointed. " Oh, how lovely ! " exclaimed both Ladies, pressing Sir Thomas's arm. It was indeed a sight to rejoice the heart of any true lover of Sport. They were looking at a splendid Mare lying in a soft, downy Mare's Nest. She was absorbed 1 8 WHAT'S THE ODDS? in profound thought, brooding over her lot. "She can't help it," the Stud Groom observed. " She belongs to the genuine stock of Brood Mares, and they all do it." Suddenly a twittering carol of birds broke on their ears. The Ladies looked about amazed. There were no feathered songsters visible. The Stud Groom smiled. " It's the Thrushes the Mare's always got. They sing on a fine summer morning like this," the Trainer, who had now joined the party, explained. Mr. Stringhalt, the Trainer, might have added that he encouraged music in his stables. Out- side, a quintette of Grooms might have been observed with their pipes, taking their time and their tune from the Chief Ostler, who was giving it them with his pitchfork; while each horse lazily leaned back in his stall, listening to the melody, and some few put their heads WHAT'S THE ODDS? 19 out of their private boxes, and either nodded affirmatively, or said " Neigh " distinctly.* " Look here ! " said the Trainer, drawing their attention to an animal in a box. " Here's one * From the Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. We (speaking editorially) feel bound to ask you a few questions. We do not profess to be sporting, but haven't you slightly over-coloured the picture of the Stud Groom and the Training Stables ? From Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. Not a bit. Haven't I said " they were a marvel of neat- ness " ? This carefully-chosen expression fore-stalls (as we used to say at Doncaster when I kept four race-horses in as many stalls) all objections. Depend upon me, my friend, for my sketches are from life. Nil dubitandum. Did you ever drive a tandem, by the way? If so, you would understand my motto, " Nil dubitandum, nil desperandum" i.e., "When driv- ing an uncertain team in a tand//m (old style of spelling), don't go at random. Yours ever, J. S. P.S. Come down, and see us. By the way, just c 2 20 WHAT'S THE ODDS? of our Derby pets. This is the Invisible Prince, out of Sight by Jingo" She was a beautiful bit of skin was this brood-foal. Her legs were long and sinewy, with a good round, firm, swelling knee, well curved outwards a sign that there was no bend sinister in her pedigree. Her left hock was still, her right hock was sparkling, just the sort you'd expect in a winner of a Cham- pagne cup. Her shoulders drooped a little, giving the notion of extraordinary force and great staying power. This was tJie one point that Sir Thomas went for with all his might and main. By the provisions of the will he was compelled not only to lose, but to come for sport look in at Billingsgate Market, and bring down a Bag Fox with you. No difficulty in train. Tip the guard, and he'll let you put him under the seat. A leather carpet-bag will carry him as well as anything, and not attract attention. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 21 in absolutely last of all, for three Derbys in succession. Hitherto all his horses ivould win. If he could but find one mare with sufficient staying power to stay behind all the others, his estates were secure to him for the rest of his life. Therefore, on the Invisible Prince all Sir Thomas Dodd's hopes were centred. Lady Di could not restrain her admiration. " She has a tail of which a rat might be proud," she cried enthusiastically. . " She's right in the mane," chimed in Mrs. Azamyle. " A more perfect nose I never saw," said the Honourable Pullman. " // naso Romano" cried the delighted Count Ferrago, as good a judge of horseflesh as ever crossed the Pyrenees. " And something of the Hebraic in it," added Sir Thomas ; " or, I should say, more correctly, of the Royal Judaic type, which, in this peculiar 22 WHAT'S THE ODDS? breed, has long been the distinguishing mark of the old Clothes' Horse." " The Baron would be glad to welcome him in his Stables," murmured the Honourable Pullman, as he patted the animal's proboscis. " We have another Derby mare," observed Mr. William Button, carelessly. " She is named Moka, by Sawney Beanie, out of Chicory ; at least, that is how I have entered her in the Registry. She is handsomely marked, you'll observe," he added, as he opened a small lattice in order to allow the visitors to get a peep at the animal in question. " She has the true length and delicate acuteness of ear, and the two dark stripes on the shoulders, which are the genuine signs of great staying and much enduring power. Should Invisible Prince fail, it is quite on the cards for Moka to lose a Derby for us. I have taken her in hand myself," added Mr. Button, with some pride. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 23 He had originally been in a Cirque, and it would have taken a clever quadruped to show him in a quarter of an hour more tricks than he could teach any one of them in five minutes. The stable-gates were thrown open, and a young lady drove in. She was radiant as the morning, and wore a Gainsborough hat of magnificent dimensions. " Gussy Gandar ! " exclaimed Sir Thomas, and in another minute they were locked in each other's arms, while the rest of the party were considerably shut up. When they were unlocked, Miss Gussy and Sir Thomas went up to the House, skipping like a young heir and heiress in March, quite oblivious of the party they had left behind in the stable. " Andiamo!" said Count Farrago, shrugging his shoulders. " Cospetto ! II Bacio ! Corpo di Baccy!" And the good-natured foreigner lit 24 WHAT'S THE ODDS? a cigar, and strolled in the direction of New- market. Mrs. Asgood Azamyle seized the Honourable Pullman Carr by the right arm, Lady Di grasped him by the left. " He must not marry her ! " they both hissed in his ears. For a time jealousy of a common object had united the rivals. But Gussy was no common object. The Honourable Pullman Carr felt this strongly. "I must have the estate, and Sir Tommy Dodd must win three Derbys in succession. Whatever happens, the Invisible Prince must not come in last. Yet, with such legs, and such a marvellous staying power, how can it be prevented ? The question is, who will be put up to ride ? and can I get at him ? Who will it be?" " I ! " said a low, distinct voice, issuing from a dark corner. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 25 The Ladies started to their feet. They had been previously on their knees, imploring the Honourable Pullman. A tall man, far over the average height, and burly in proportion, weighing thirty stone if he weighed a pound, stood before them. He was dressed in full jockey costume, including armour-plates, which, owing to the provisions of the will necessitating weight carrying to any amount, constituted the de rigueur racing attire of a Tommy Dodd Boy. " Who are you ? " asked the Honourable Pullman. "My name is Cavasson," answered the warrior- like figure, "and 1 am the Dumb Jockey* of Jeddington." The Ladies screamed, for at that moment * I am far from wishing to interfere with the story, but how could it be the Dumb Jockey when he is 26 WHAT'S THE ODDS? they caught sight of a brilliant pair of keen, eager eyes watching them through the stone wall. To clear this at a bound was, with the Honourable Pullman, the work of a moment. made to speak ? You'll excuse the question, I know, I am but anticipating an objection on the part of the readers. Yours ever, THE EDITOR. Major Jaw ley Sharp to the Editor. My dear Sir, this is part cf the plot. What interest could possibly be felt in a dumb Jockey who didiit speak? Why, the curiosity must be roused by the fact of the Dumb Jockey speaking! "How did he do it?" "Why did he do it ? " " Was he really dumb ? " Don't you see ? That's the way we do the trick ! When are you coming down to my little place in Hampshire ? The Ladies are dying to meet you. Yours, J. S. The Editor to Major Jaw ley Sharp. I'm ready. But you've again forgotten to put in your address. ED. CHAPTER IV. " CONSPIRATORS." THE glittering eyes which, peering through the stone wall, had startled the two Ladies, belonged to Lawyer Ferret. His eyes were as sharp as he was himself j in fact, they were his pupils. " I can see through a stone wall as well as most people," said Lawyer Ferret, in an under- tone, to the Honourable Pullman. " Come," he added, looking carefully about, u the women have gone up to Town ; the coast is clear. We will talk over this in my office." In another hour the Honourable Pullman was seated in Lawyer Ferret's sanctum. "The Jeddington Dodd property is safe to WHAT'S THE ODDS? come to me, and we shall both be millionnaires, if you can insure Sir Thomas's winning the next three Derbys," said the Honourable Pullman. Lawyer Ferret looked up at him from under his eyebrows. "It shall be done. I'll take six-fourths. You'll have five-thirds." He was hard at a bargain was old Lawyer Ferret. " Good ! Your plan ? " Lawyer Ferret considered a moment, then he replied, " I know all the Jockeys, including Cavasson the Dumb Jockey. I will buy them all. There will be one hundred and twenty starters for the Derby. They will all curb up their horses, hold them well in, and flog and spur the Invisible Prince, so that he must go. Whatever it costs, whatever time it takes, the Invisible Prince will be bound to come in first, as the others won't move a step without his being well WHAT'S 7 HE ODDS? 29 ahead. If Cavasson should fail us, he must be poisoned." " Yes," answered the Honourable Pullman, as he leisurely cocked his hat. This action did not pass unobserved by Lawyer Ferret. It was not the first time he had seen a hat cocked right before his eyes, and had waited for it to go off, unflinchingly. Whatever might have been the Honourable Pullman's original intention in cocking his hat, he had evidently given up any notion of injury to Lawyer Ferret, as he only nodded to the latter, and allowed his hat to remain on his head, while he took himself off. A brougham pulled up outside the door. In it was Lady Di. " Pullman ! " she exclaimed, as the Honour- able P. came up smiling, "here are one thousand pounds for you. More if Sir Thomas does not marry Gussy." 30 WHAT'S THE ODDS? " He shall not," answered the Honourable P. " Come to the Meet to-morrow. Gussy rides a fresh horse. Accidents will happen. You understand ? " " Perfectly. Tell the Coachman to drive to Gunter's. It is so insufferably hot. See you at the Opera to-night. Ta, ta ! " And off dashed the spanking ten-guinea stepper, with the minia- ture brougham, and the three Flunkeys in pink silk-stockings and gorgeous liveries, hanging on for dear life behind. As the Honourable Pullman pocketed the note, a rap on the hat from an elegant riding- whip caused him to look up. "I thought I knew the tap," exclaimed the Honourable Pullman as he put up his glass, and drank in the liquid intoxication of Mrs. Asgood Azamyle's sparkling eyes. " Your news ? " she asked, as, with the skill of a perfect equestrienne, she gave her horse his WHAT'S THE ODDS? 31 head, which was all he wanted to make him perfect. Like most Ladies, Mrs. Azamyle allowed all her horses to eat their heads off in the stable, so that it required no mean veteri- nary knowledge on her part to supply the defect, and complete their symmetry. This she had now done. "Ah, Mrs. Azamyle/' said the Honourable Pullman, "you will be glad to hear that I am arranging it all to your satisfaction. Gussy will be thrown over to-morrow, you 'II sec. Sir Thomas will win three Derbys in succession, and the property will be mine. Will you be mine also ? " " How much are the Jeddington Dodd estates worth ? " was Mrs. Azamyle's adroit reply. She was a master of the art of fence in conversation. "Oh, about two hundred million a year," was the careless rejoinder. " Just enough to scrape along on/' 32 WHAT'S THE ODDS? " I'm there ! " returned Mrs. Azamyle. " You will be out hunting to-morrow, of course," called out the Honourable Pullman, as the fair equestrian turned her horse in the direc- tion of Rotton Row, which was as usual crowded with the haut ton of society.* * The Editor to Major Jawky Sharp. My dear Sir, surely there's no hunting in Summer. For of course this is intended for Summer. The Opera season going on, and Ladies oppressed by the heat going from Rotten Row to Gunter's. We, speaking Editorially, never heard of hunting in Summer. ED. Jawky Sharp to the Editor. What ! no hunting in Summer ! ! I suppose you'll say there's no fishing next. I do not pretend to describe ordinary events, though there's nothing very #r/raordinary in a good run with a July Fox. Evidently you don't understand sporting. But come down here, arid Fll put you up to a thing or two. Of course I'll put you up anyhow, and not anyhow, but in first-rate style. Now let me explain about a "July Fox." A " July Fox" is not WHAT'S THE ODDS f 33 " Of course," she replied; and then added, in a tone of significant enquiry, " How about the Ditch?" The Honourable Pullman nodded. They understood one another. to be found in every county. It is a Fox not of the present, but of the previous year, and should more correctly be described as a " last year's Fox" He won't keep till the following winter, and so they are obliged to hunt him in July, so as to get him out of the way before the Cub season sets in. Of course this is a mere matter of A, B, C to any sportsman. And as to " no hunting in July " ! ! 'Gad, Sir, I should like to see the man who doesn't prefer that season of the year to any other. My dear friend, you know your business, /know mine. Jam satis. J. S. CHAPTER V. "THE HUNT IS UP." THE Spring had passed, the Summer had well set in. Bright Chanticleer proclaimed the morn, and Sir Thomas was out with his hounds before 1 1 A.M. Cavasson, the Dumb Jockey, was mounted on Invisible Prince. "Nothing like hunting to train for the Derby/' was Mr. Stringhalt's opinion. Sir Thomas was in high spirits. He had just put spurs to his horse,* which now strutted about * From the Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. Sir, surely "putting spurs to a horse" does not mean what you evidently intend it should mean here. Of WHAT'S THE ODDS? 35 as proud as a fighting cock. Gussy Gandar was mounted on a sweet cream, which she whipped occasionally. According to agreement, and in order to carry out their nefarious designs, the Honour- able Pullman and Lawyer Ferret have escorted Lady Di and Mrs. Azamyle to a ditch, in which they all sat down, well hidden from view, in course I only ask for information, but does it? Yours, ED. From Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. Dear Neddy, of course it does. Why, any infant in the nursery could have told you this. Don't you remem- ber " Ride a Cock-horse to Banbury Cross" &c., &c, ? And would a " cock-horse " be complete without spurs ? I grant you that the expression is a stable technicality, and is, probably, founded on a very old English custom. But if you want to see the sort of thing I do mean, run down here. J. S. From the Editor to the Major. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. But the address ? ED. D 2 36 WHAT'S THE ODDS? order to watch the horse, the man, and the woman in whom they took such a tremendous interest. "I have arranged everything," said Sir Thomas to Gussy, as hand in hand they flew a bullfinch. " Delighted, dear Tom, to hear it," replied his fair companion, as she cleared a haw-haw, pre- paratory to giving a light silvery laugh. " Yes," he went on, after blowing his horn, and giving the view halloa to the Bagman,* * From the Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. My very dear Sir, I am not an Anti-Vivisectionist, but in the interests of humanity I have tried to soften down this chapter as much as possible. When, in Chapter IV., you spoke of hunting in summer, I naturally thought you meant Fox-hunting, and your letter corroborated this notion. But now, Sir, I find you mean Man-hunting. It is useless for you to deny this, as I have asked several eminent sportsmen, and one and all tell me that " to hunt a Bagman " is WHAT'S THE ODDS? 37 who, with the pack at his back, made for the bright, sweet-scented clover-field. "Yes, dear, most unusual, though, perhaps, when a Fox cannot be obtained (as e.g. in summer, I suppose), it may occa- sionally be allowable. I gather, from information I have received, that some impecunious Commercial Traveller is selected for his knowledge of the country, and is then started with a red herring, or a bag of aniseed, which serves as scent for the hounds. This is a sufficiently cruel pastime by itself, and it is shameful to think that the poor Bagman, after a severe run, should be caught and worried, as you describe, by the dogs. But, good heavens, Sir, you are not in earnest, you cannot be, when you go on to say that the successful huntsman cuts off the unhappy Bagman's head and tail ! ! ! Of course this is the spice you have given to the romance, and therefore, as we appeal to the general public, and reckon on the support of Lady readers, as well as unsporting Gentle- men, I have taken upon myself to throw in a little tender touch in the way of epithets, and by an allusion to his funeral and his poor family just to 38 WHAT'S THE ODDS f by my influence I've induced the members of the Turf Committee and the Jockey Club to give the Three Derbys in one day. I shall run the same mare either the In- visible Prince or Moka for all the three. They're both being most carefully trained not to start or go one inch. The Invisible is beauti- fully broken in. She has opium every morning, lettuces, hay, clover, rye, bread, dumplings, apples, buns, and buckets of water ; everything, in fact, she can eat and drink, and as often as possible." " And Moka ? " asked Gussy. soften down this " Bagman hunting," which, other- wise, would be really worse than any Bulgarian atrocity. Yours, ED. Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. (By Wire. In haste?) Don't touch a line. It's all right. Real sport, every word of it, and you'll spoil it. The Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. Too late. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 39 "Getting on fine. She's out on the sands, with the boys, from morning to night at six- pence an hour." They drew near a sunk fence, with a ditch on either side, surmounted by spikes, and a stream running swiftly between the boundaries. The Lawyer, the Honourable Pullman, and the two Ladies secreted in the ditch, held their breath. Suddenly, as Gussy's horse rose in the air, Lawyer Ferret jumped up and made a hideous grimace. Gussy's horse, startled by the apparition, swerved, and fell heavily against Sir Thomas's hunter, and in another moment both were in the river, and she was safe in his arms, safe as the bank where he had just deposited his treasure. ' I am thine for ever ! " she murmured. The hounds were in full cry. The unhappy and panting Bagman, much worried by the dogs, had headed them, and crossing the corn- 40 WHAT'S THE ODDS? fields, was now all among the barley, and rolling in the grass among the buttercups and daisies. Cries of "Tally ho!" "Yeo ho ! " "Heave ahead ! " " Yoicks ! " and "Half a turn a-starn ! " now arose from the mouths of the Huntsmen. Poor Puss was hard pressed. In another second the dogs were on him, when they suddenly lost the scent, took up an old trail, got on the slot, and streamed away for another county. In vain the field halloo'd. Only old Harbinger, the veteran hound of the true Scotch breed, was true to his instincts, but he was too weak to tackle the infuriated Bagman, who would have made short work of him, had it not been that Sir Thomas, seeing the unfortunate wretch about to rush at poor Gussy, jumped off his horse, and drawing the hunting-knife which hung at his belt, cut off his head and tail at one slice. Then the Hunters struck up a chorus, and rode merrily home, while four stout retainers WHAT'S THE ODDS? 41 bore on a litter the body of the luckless Bag- man, who would never more travel that road again. Of course the poor Bagman, who had thus hardly earned the money for his starving family, was buried, at Sir Thomas's expense, in the village churchyard, and his wife and children were handsomely provided for by the members of the Jeddington Hunt. "We have failed to-day," said the conspira- tors, as they crept out of the ditch, and wended their way home again up to London through the muddy lanes with rueful countenances. " We have failed to-day ; but our turn will come." The Honourable Pullman eyed Lawyer Ferret narrowly. " To-morrow the Three Derbys will be run," said the crafty Lawyer. " Tliat we know. To- 42 WHAT'S THE ODDS? night I buy the Jockeys, and the game is ours, Ha! ha!" It was an anxious night the night before the Three Derby s. CHAPTER VI. "THE TREBLE EVENT." ALL the bright-toned joyous music of a bril- liant morning heralded in the great day of the Treble Event. Three Derbys in one day was something almost unparalleled in the history of the English Turf, and mighty was the surging crowd that came from all quarters to the Sussex Downs. Soldiers were there ; sailors, of course, were there, led by the gallant Admi- ral, with his crew of fine old weather-beaten Epsom Salts, who would not have missed such a sight, no, not for the best, highest-mettled Spanish Chestnut that ever was foaled. Hither came the million, hither came the viillioniiaires. By road came the aristocratic 44 WHAT'S THE ODDS f drags of the Royal Humane Society, starting from their head-quarters by the Serpentine, with their spanking tits ; then by river came the crews of the Universities, still in training for their great water-course, and the winner of the Grand Prix, in all the glory of his new satin riband recently won on the French Turf. Hither came Royalty with its sixteen horses, its equerries, its outriders, its carabineers, and its detachment of Life Guards. Then the Russian Imperial Duchess, preceded by the Courier of St. Petersburg riding six horses at once, and guiding them with bright coloured-reins. Then the world-famed Silver Trumpets were heard, as the Lord Mayor, with his suite, dashed past the saluting point, gracefully raising his plumed cocked hat to the occupants of the Royal Box. Close upon these the Starter* was carried * From the Editor to Major Jaw ley Sharp. Dear Sir, You must be wrong. I mean, at least, are you WHAT'S THE ODDS f 45 past, ready equipped for the race, borne aloft, in his loose box, by four bookmakers, followed by a well-trained troupe of Monkeys on Ponies, emblematical of the Ring. Behind him waved certain you are quite right in your information about " the Starter " ? Surely, my dear Major, " the Starter " as I, at least, have always been given to understand is the person who claps his hands, or fires a pistol, or rings a bell, or says " One, two, three, and away ! " to the Jockeys ? Isn't it so ? I write under correc- tion, but isrit it so ? Yours truly, ED. From Major Jawley Sharp to the Editor. My dear but unsporting friend, you are nowhere in these matters. You're not " in it." Just see what a mess you made of my hunting chapter last week by your meddling with " the Bagman," which you thought was a Commercial Traveller (!) instead of a Fox in a bag. I know all about " the Starter" And, once for all, let me ask, are you writing this Sporting Novel, or am I? But, in the name of common sense and the English language, what does "a Reader" mean? Why, "one who reads." " A Smoker' 1 is "one who 46 WHAT'S THE ODDS? the banner of the Turf, with the motto, " There is another and a Betting world." All eyes are, for a moment, fixed on the Starter. On him, in fact, the Derby entirely depends. It is the fundamental and most neces- sary rule of the Jockey Club that " Without one starter there shall be no Derby'' Consequently it is incumbent on the Turf authorities to pro- vide a Starter, whose duty it is to be booted and spurred and in the saddle, ready to supply the place of any, or of all the defaulters. If none came to the post, the Starter would then start by himself, and walk over the course. This has only happened twice in the last hundred and fifty years, once being the celebrated Neigh Buddie's year. Up to the last moment of his smokes," &c., &c. And a Starter is "one who starts. 7 ' Excuse warmth; but, hang it, do not attempt to correct me in sporting and turf technicalities. Yours ever, JAWLEY SHARP. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 47 being shown to the people, the " Starter" is kept, by the official trainers, wrapped up in cotton wool, to guard against the slightest chance of his being scratched before the race. In front of the throne where H.R.H. the Prince of Wales was seated, were stationed a picked body-guard of splendid men from his own Principality. All eyes are on the cele- brated corps of Royal Welshers, with their banneret, on which is proudly displayed the motto, " Semper Faciens" The half-world, too, of whose existence the other half knows so much and yet so little, was present in full force with flowers, sparkling champagne, lobster-salad, and all the fun of the fair. Here sat stately, as of old, the old Duchess Sarah of Stiickenbaskitt, calmly con- templating the throes of the excited throng. From highest to lowest, all are eager about the one business of the day. The Gipsies, ready 48 WHAT'S THE ODDS? for their al fresco dinner, have turned away from their fire, and have put the pot on the field, while within the refreshment-tent, excited Waiters are running for a plate, and the Sport- ing Admiral has just managed to place himself in time to come in a good third for the cup. Previous to the great event of the day there were the usual number of small races, over which a considerable amount of "stuff" changed hands, though the public interest was, of course, centred in the Derbys. First on the correct card was a flat race for the Consolation Stakes. The entries for this were entirely confined to those who, through ignorance of sporting matters, had been heavy losers through the week. A purse had been made for them by the Ladies. It is needless to say that Lawyer Ferret and the Honourable Pullman were not among the competitors. One of the prettiest sights of the day was the WHAT'S THE ODDS? 49 Maiden Race, run in costume. The prize for this was provided by the Bachelors of the County ; and nowhere, save in Great Britain, could be seen so many fine, fresh, sport-loving Damsels, in their pink and white colours, as are brought together on such an occasion. Attrac- tive as is the spectacle, however, we must not linger near the ropes, in order to bestow too much attention on it. Suffice it to record here, that the Maiden Race was won by Miss Gussy Gandar, mounted on a hot chestnut, to which she gave a regular roasting with her jewel- mounted whip. " He's only a Plater," said Gussy, radiantly, as dismounting, she threw herself into the arms of Sir Thomas Dodd. " True ; but, ' Plater, thou reasonest well/ " was Sir Thomas's quiet reply. They had too serious work before them to allow of any spare time for the pleasantries of society. 50 WHAT'S THE ODDS f Three hundred horses foals, colts, mares, fillies had been entered for the Great Race. They were all there ; not a screw loose. Moka is here, and the Invisible Prince. The Prince is not to run. He is only here in case of any accident to Moka, by whose side stands Cayasson, the Dumb Jockey of Jedding- ton, sparkling in the Tommy Dodd colours. Lav/yer Ferret and the Honourable Pullman, among the crowd, watch him closely. They have given him two thousand pounds to win, but, feeling uncertain of him, they have been poisoning him all night, and are now waiting anxiously to see the effect. / ^g^ Lady Di and Mrs. Asgood Azamyle are also among the spectators, in a barouche. Gussy, who has overheard their schemes, has told Sir Thomas everything. " What's the odds ? " asked a neophyte. He is informed that the bookmakers have backed WHAT'S THE ODDS? Moka, at thousands to nothing, to win the three Derbys in succession on this glorious day., Besides this, there is no betting. Everyone is "on/' and Stringhalt and William Button are pale and nervous. Breathless was the excitement for the Great Event. The Sporting Admiral, who had been riding at anchor about the course, and carrying a formidable whip, which he called his "screw- propeller," now entered the weighing-room to see the Jockeys get under weigh. Cavasson, being late for the post, could not be allowed to go without an extra penny. This was what the Trainer wanted. Every ha'porth of overweight made the Dodd victory more certain. Stringhalt grasped William Button's arm. " Do you trust Cavasson ? " he asked him, in a low, nervous whisper. 2 52 WHAT'S THE ODDS? " I trust the animal not the man," was the brief answer. "What shall we do if we are floored ? " asked the Trainer, in the same tone. "Why, 'carpet' Cavasson," was the Stud Groom's stern rejoinder. But there was no time for further parley. The Bell was already ringing, and the horses were settling down into their places. "Moka!" "Invisible Prince!" "Cavasson!" were the names on every tongue. Anxious amateur bookmakers, who had been watching the market, might now be heard offering ponies in hoarse whispers../ Once more the Silver Trumpets sound, as the Judge, in his well-known Derby horse-hair wig, well powdered and curled, and wearing his scarlet and ermine, bows to the Royal box, and then takes his seat in banco. Below him sits the Clerk of the Course, in ordinary WHAT'S THE ODDS? 53 barrister's costume, with the Correct Card before him, ready to call out the names and colours of the riders in proper order. Sir Thomas has taken the odds all round. Cavasson, who only speaks on his fingers, is now beginning to take the odds freely. This caused a temporary panic among the bookmakers. But on Stringhalt and William Button backing Moka to win, the feeling of security returned, and the betting went on again merrily. ^^ Lawyer Ferret and his Fidus Achates the Honourable Pullman have issued secret orders to all the jockeys simply these : " WJicn the word to start is given, hold hard. Squeeze Invisible Prince. Wait on Moka, and if CAVAS- SON does not use whip or spur, then let everyone belabour his animal, and urge him fonvard. Let the crowd press on him : he must go. If all the rest persistently stay behind, and shove 54 WHAT'S THE ODDS? Moka on, Moka MUST win, even though tJie race takes three or four hours? Sir Thomas felt that the Jeddington Dodd estates were in the hands of Cavasson. His fortune and his wife were the stakes he was playing for on this his Bridle day. The Judge has arisen, and silence has been proclaimed by the Ushers. For an instant thousands might have been heard to drop all over the course. Cavasson's heart palpitates violently, and so great is his excitement, that his colours come and go. Sir Thomas Dodd grips Gussy's hand, while William Button and Stringhalt keep their eyes fixed on the Dumb Jockey, who for all his agitation, sits, apparently to the crowd, an immovable, impassible, wooden figure. The Starter calls over the names, as his assessors, the Two Probable Starters, note them down in their books. WHAT'S THE ODDS? 55 All are present. There is only one duty for the Police to perform before the start. They have to see that everything is laid level all round, so that there may be no obstruction to the run- ning. " One .... tivo .... three .... and " A piercing scream interrupted the Starter! It proceeded from Cavasson, the Dumb Jockey, who, as if in a fit before the start, suddenly threw up his arms in the air, and reeled heavily in the saddle. CHAPTER VII. "SETTLING THE FIRST EVENT." THAT scream which had so alarmed the field was not Cavasson's. It came from Mrs. As- good Azamyle, who was seated in Lady Di Briteleigh's barouche writing a last letter to Sir Thomas Dodd. Oh, these last letters ! these X, Y, Z's of Love's Alphabet ! Woe's me ; but we all do it, though some- times we rue it ; but so it will be till the end of the world. The wily Irish Lord Chan- cellor Thurramough was right for once when he said, "These are letters that ought to be written with a sheep pen on a calf's skin." WHAT'S THE ODDS? 57 No one understood what he meant at the time, but experience has proved the justice, as well as the wit, of the remark. In a firm hand Mrs. Asgood Azamyle traced the following lines : GUSSY will not love you. She emit. She may laugh if you tickle her under the chin, but ifs the same old game. I have stooped to plot, because I love you so grandly, so madly. Rumour says your hands are to be tied at your marriage. If s0 y how will you put on the ring ? The ring, indeed ! Are you to give up the betting ring for the wedding-ring? Bah! I've never blenched, and would not noiv. I scorn senti- ment. Let t/iem all have a mate but me, what matters, or rather what maters ? After this observation, per/taps, you will not care to see me. To-morrow I shall be all abroad. Address me France. Pay your addresses, as the postage 58 WHAT'S THE ODDS f comes heavy. I shall be all there. Thine for ever, your A. DORA. P.S. If Pullman Carr can mar your Three Derby s he will Lady Di Briteleigh was looking over her shoulder and copying the letter word for word. Mrs. Asgood Azamyle, turning suddenly, caught her at it. This turning suddenly had soured her. She was relentless. One moment and the bright steel flashed in the air another, and it was in the inkstand, for Lady Di had screamed, and all eyes were on the barouche. Mrs. Asgood Azamyle tossed the letter to Sir Thomas, and then was carried away by her feelings to a distant part of the course. Lady Di, with a bottle of chloral in her hand, WHAT'S THE ODDS? 59 remained to witness the result of the race, which her emotion has so suddenly and so strongly interrupted./ 7 In the meantime, unable to effect a satis- factory start, the horses were going round and round a tall post, while a barrel-organ, worked by machinery, played various well-known airs. For this advantageous exercise each jockey had paid a penny. The rich tones of the old organ had a salutary and soothing effect on the men and horses. Lawyer Ferret and the Honourable Pullman Carr stood by, eying them narrowly as they passed in rotation. Had Cavasson been bought or not ? that was the question. The crafty solicitor, and the equally astute Honourable had sent him bouquets, bills of the play, and blank unsigned cheques to any amount, but could they be sure of him? This was rather an open way of buying a jockey, but it had 60 WHAT'S THE ODDS? answered before ; and was it to be questioned now ? Once more the trumpets sounded, the bell rang, and the gong sounded. "They are off !" "He's off!" "No, I'm on!" " They 're all off ! " " No, all on ! " Ha ! ! ! They're away at last ! ! ! No ! Not one of them stirred. Each jockey, true to his bargain with Lawyer Ferret, reined in his horse, and remained at the starting-point. Lawyer Ferret had squared the jockeys on all points, save one. This he was compelled to leave to their own choice. It was a critical moment ; but all at once the Lawyer exclaimed gleefully, " That was all that was wanted ! They have done it ! They have squared their elbows ! " And so they had. By order of the Starter the police were ordered to pull the horses. The Judge had decided that a horse, if thus pulled, might fairly WHAT'S THE ODDS? 61 win. If the other horses would not stir a peg, no more would Moka. On the contrary, she backed in among the crowd, and was gradually working her way to the last place in the field. It was thus that her clever jockey Cavasson was backing her to win. The bookmakers were frantic ; they had laid their skins on Cavasson winning on Moka. Not a chance of her stirring at present. There sat Cavasson on Moka, calm, serene, impassible ! " Back her ! back her ! " cries Sir Thomas, excitedly. " We have backed her ! " exclaimed the Bookmakers despairingly, beginning to think they had been let in for a regular snorter. But Cavasson has his game to play. He has not been idle for months, and the horse has been under the hands of the most adept of circus trainers. At a signal from Cavasson, Moka, paying no attention to the lashes from the whips of the 62 WHAT'S THE ODDS? jockeys, who are belabouring her heavily, rears on her hind legs, and paws the air, cleaving a wide space around her. " Two for her heels ! " shouted Stringhalt, who was in the secret. And immediately the clever cob reversed the action. Jockeys and horses fell right and left of her, as Cavasson waved a flag, and fired a couple of pistols in the air ; while William Button, who was hidden behind the Starter's box, shook a sheet of iron to represent thunder, and Gussy, from her brougham, threw squibs in among the troubled mass of horses. Further attempts to hold them back were useless. Maddened by the fireworks and the sheet iron, the horses broke away, and the jockeys, losing all control, tumbled off, and were picked up by the police. " Keep your seats, Gentlemen ! keep your seats ! " shouted the infuriated Starter. Then he grumbled to . WHAT'S THE ODDS? 63 himself, " I've never seen such a start as this before!" " Don't move on my account ! " shrieked Sir Thomas to Cavasson. The Dumb Jockey nodded to his employer, as Moka quietly backed against the starting- post, while all the other horses tore madly onward, in spite of the strenuous efforts of their jockeys onward, onward, in a whirlwind of dust, round Tottenham Road Corner, up the hill, down the hill, and through the Middle Park, amid the execrations of the furious Book- makers, who were on the Moka colt to their last shoestring. The boy in yellow won the day ! Moka was last of all, still waltzing on her hind legs, a few yards in advance of the starting-post. Sir Thomas clasped Gussy round the waist in silent gratitude. The first Derby had been lost ! Thank Heaven for that ! 64 WHAT'S THE ODDS? NOTES TO FOREGOING CHAPTER. from tfo Editor to Major Jawley Sharp. Dear Major, of course you know the names of those places better than myself; but isn't it Tottenham Corner, not Tottenham. Eh ? Yours, ED. DEAR EDITOR, You're thinking of TattersalTs. Quite right of you to as. M. J. S. From tit Etiitor to Major Jawky Sharp. You will excuse me, I am sure, but was there ever a Derby like this ? Isn't it going just a trifle too far? from Major Jawlsy Sharp to the Editor. Was there ever . . . such a dear old Neddy as you are ? A Derby like Ms, my boy? Rather. Don't you remember near Boshey? the Station for which place he said was Ware. A friend of his perhaps the Impostor himself in this character called at our office, and, after telling us that we were expected the next day at Bogus Park, where our room was prepared, where there was a quiet horse at our disposal, and the best of everything awaiting our arrival, he received from us a handsome cheque (luckily, on account], for which he said he was autho- rised to give a receipt on behalf of his friend Major J. S., who could not come up to town, it being a hunting day, and Bogus Park being full of visitors. He departed, and the next day we started for Ware, intending to arrive at Bogus in time for dinner. On descending at the Station, there was no carriage to meet us, but a boy stepped forward on hearing our question put to the Station-Master as to the where- abouts of Bogus Park, and delivered a letter in the Major's handwriting. It apologised for not sending a carriage, but begged us to take a fly, at his expense, G 2 84 WHAT'S THE ODDS? and tell the man to drive straight to the House, a distance of about six miles, when, to prevent any contretemps, he (Major J. S.) would send to meet us at the Cross Roads. "And," added a P.S., " don't forget our dinner hour is 7.30 sharp." We gave the boy sixpence, who immediately disappeared, and a fly having been found, we stowed away our luggage (two portmanteaus, a carpet-bag, a hatbox, and rugs), and started for Bogus Park, which the Flyman said he thought he knew, but wasn't sure ; adding that, "Any- how, if the Gentleman's agoing to meet us at the Cross Roads, about six miles from here, that'll be all right, as I think I know which cross roads he means" It was by this time six o'clock, but there was an hour and a half to dinner, and though it was a trifle colder than in town, and the rain was beginning to come down pretty heavily, yet, at all events, there was a cheerful room to look forward to in an old country mansion, a hearty welcome from a hospitable Squire, the best of everything, a brilliant party, and dinner at 7.30 sharp. Thus meditating, we fell into a dreamy doze, then into a pleasant slumber. We were awoke by a sudden stoppage, it was dark. The wind was howl- WHAT'S THE ODDS? 85 ing. The rain was beating against the windows and sides of the fly. The driver, shivering and drenched, opened the door, thereby admitting a hurricane and a shower, and said, " 'Ere's the Cross Roads, Sir, but I don't see nobody." "We must wait," we said, cheerily. "No doubt we are a little before our time." Our watch marked 7.30 exactly. We had slumbered for an hour and a half. " You've been a long time," we said, reproach- fully, to the Flyman. " Very bad roads this time o' year," he replied. We waited. Seven forty-five ! The Major had told me, in his letter, that dinner was at "7.30 sharp." Evidently, he had got tired of waiting for us, and had gone home to dinner. Too bad of him, or too bad of the Flyman for being so long over the journey. There was nothing for it but to drive on. "As no one is coming," we said, still cheerily, so as to keep the Flyman in a good temper, " you had better drive on to Bogus Park." " Which direction's that in, Sir?" asked the Flyman. "Why," we returned, " don't you know ? It's Major Jawley Sharp's house Major Jawley Sharp, the great Sporting Novelist, the Country Squire ; he has a house full of company ; 86 WHAT'S THE ODDS f he hunts regularly. Why, hang it ! " we said, being a trifle exasperated by the blank, puzzled expression of his countenance, "you must know where Major Jawley Sharp lives!" " No, blessed if I do," he replied, emphatically. " I've lived in these parts, man and boy, for a matter of thirty year or more, and never heard tell o' such a name, or o' such a place as Bogus Park." There was a pause. We reflected on bucolic igno- rance ; we debated within ourselves by what means we could bring the Major and his mansion to this rustic's memory. The Flyman's eye winked. He leered at us ! Aha ! he knew : we felt he knew at last. The Flyman spoke. " I say," he observed, cunningly, " You're a playing your tricks on me ! But it won't do. I knows one as good as two o' that /" This was irritating. We put it to his common sense, " What on earth could be the fun to us of driving about Hertfordshire, hungry and tired, in the wind and rain, for the sake of playing a practical joke on an unknown flyman?" He listened to reason, and presently it occurred to him that he did know a place answering the description we gave of what we WHAT'S THE ODDS? 87 supposed Bogus Park to be like, about five miles off. To this place we drove. It was nine o'clock before we arrived. After some delay at the Lodge, we were informed that no one of the name of Major Sharp lived there, or was known in those parts. The old gatekeeper thought she had heard the name, some years ago, when she lived with her Aunt on Goose Green, the other side of the county. Her little boy suddenly remembered that there was a Major Some- thing who hunted, and lived in a Park, about seven miles off. This was a gleam of light. Having re- warded the boy with sixpence, we drove on. Twice we lost our way. It could be hardly called " losing our way," as we were in utter ignorance of the locality, and the Flyman knew very little about "this part of the country" By dint of climbing up signposts, with a carriage-lamp in his hand (which, fortunately, he was able to light), and reading the directions, we managed to make some progress northwards. For miles and miles we drove, but no sign of any big house could we see. Parks there were, indeed, but no Lodges visible, and no gates. The roads were rough, sloshy, stodgy, and, in many parts, evidently only used by the heaviest carts. At last, the driver WHAT'S THE ODDS f took a wrong turning, went bumping and stumbling down a narrow lane, and, finally, the weary horse stuck fast in the heaviest clay soil. On each side was a flooded ditch ; in front was a gate leading into a field. The rain was pelting worse than ever. The Flyman hadn't the smallest notion of where he'd got to. Then, for the first time, we began to lift up our voice, and bless Major Jawley Sharp. And, all the while, we knew that the last chapters of his idiotic Sporting Novel were being set up in type, and we should be unable to get back in time to prevent its publication. Cold, hungry, wet, miserable not so wet as the Flyman, though we asked what could be done? The Flyman suggested that he should take the lamp, go through the gate, enter the plantation, and walk till he found some Keeper's lodge, where he could make inquiries. To this we assented. He disappeared, leaving us in the lane, in charge of the fly and horse, and one lamp. For an hour we awaited his return. He did not return. It was nearly twelve before we decided that the only course was to turn the fly round, and drive back into the road. We began trying this. The lamp went out. The horse wouldn't do what we wanted. We coaxed, pulled, WHAT'S THE ODDS f 89 struggled, and were in a perspiration of despair. The horse was dead beat, and stumbled. In another second the fly gave a lurch, and was over, luggage and all into the ditch. While we were executing a sort of clog-dance in the stodgy slosh, wasting our strength in vain endeavours to find our hat and umbrella, the bell of (apparently) a distant cathedral boomed over the marshes. Midnight ! We were laid up in the Inn at Ware all next day. The Flyman turned up in the afternoon. The lug- gage arrived by instalments, finishing with a shapeless something, which had once been our new hat. The Flyman explained that when he had entered the plantation, he had been captured as a poacher, and locked up. The expenses of that night, including damages to horse and fly, were enormous. Prostrated by a severe cold, and unable to move, we searched county guides, read the history of Hertfordshire, and examined intelligent natives. No information what- ever about Bogus Park : no one had ever heard of such a place, or such a person as Major Jawley Sharp. go WHAT'S THE ODDS? And on the previous day we had sent him a cheque by his friend ! Arrived in town. Letter from Major J. S. : Dear Eddy, Afraid you must have had a rough time of it. Bogus Park looks well at night, doesnt it ? The Quiet Horse Pd got for you, I leave for you here at the Office as a mark of my esteem. Don't ride it too hard in Rotten Row. Cheque cashed all right. Adoo ! Adoo ! Yours ever, J. S. P.S. You won't want another Sporting Novel in a hurry, will you! /i, Slyboots ? We went down-stairs. Where was the Quiet Horse? No one knew anything about such an animal. The brave Commissionnaire at our front office door, sud- denly remembered that a man had called yesterday, from a second-hand furniture shop, and, on receiving half-a-crown, on our account, in our absence, from our head-clerk, had left a common painted deal towel- horse I Tied to it was an envelope, on which was written, in the Major's hand }\' HAT'S THE ODDSf 91 " The quietest horse out. I told you so. Jf Jawley Sharp, you are Jawley Green." There was also a note from Captain Hawley Smart, Author of Bound to Win, now running in BelVs Life. We place it before our readers : Dear Sir, I have not the smallest idea who the per- son calling himself Major Jawley Sharp is. I do not know him. I have never heard of him. From his Novel (?) I learn that he is grossly and stupendously ignorant of all matters connected with Sport. Whenever and wherever I meet him, I shall give him precious good cause to remember the impression made on him by Yours sincerely, H. This settles it. The Detectives are engaged. We fancy the Major is not unknown to the Impostor who, some time ago, pretended to accompany H.R.H. the Prince during his Indian tour, and sent us letters from "YOUR REPRESENTATIVE IN INDIA." If so, we think we can put our hand on both at once. Nous verrons I It flashes across us suddenly as an idea that the boy who appeared at the Ware Station, with 92 WHAT'S THE ODDS f a letter from the arch-impostor, and to whom we gave sixpence, was the very boy whom long ago we en- trusted with half a sovereign to go out and buy an Anglo-Indian Dictionary, and who never returned. If so, he has become one of this gang of swindlers. He may yet be reclaimed, if we can only catch him. ED. EPIGRAPH. To CAPTAIN HA WLEV SMART, Author of " Two Kisses" " Bound to Win? " Courtship? &<;., 6-r. DEAR CAPTAIN, You have seen with your own eyes the evidence of this literary fraud. Your con- duct has been noble, more than noble, through- out, and your letter admirable ! If I can be of any assistance to you in tracking this impostor to his lair (I use this expression under your experienced correction for I believe " tracking to a lair " is a genuine sporting phrase, if not, you catch the idea, and that is sufficient) you may count upon me. I do not know whether you are as expert in arithmetic as you are in the science of sport, but, if so, you will understand 94 WHAT'S THE ODDS. what I mean, when I invite you to " count upon me? Wishing you several good runs with the hounds you are a good runner a first-rate spin with your tops, a comfortable and reason- able fly for your salmon-fishing (you can get a fly for half-a-crown an hour at most places, and why give more ?) a first-rate season with the black game among the moors, and magnificent sport here, there, and everywhere, I remain, in expectation of hearing some news of you, per hamper, of several brace (you understand), Yours sincerely, F. C. BURNAND. To CAPT .H. SMART, BELFRY LODGE, STEEPLE CHASE, WESTCENTRALSHIRE. THE END. BRADBURY, AGNKW, co., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. Bradbury, Agnew, & Go's Publications. SOME OTHER WORKS BY F. C. BURNAND. HAPPY THOUGHTS. MORE HAPPY THOUGHTS. MOKEANNA!!! and other Burlesque Sen- sations. With 4 full-page Illustrations. ABOUT BUYING A HORSE. ROUND ABOUT MY GARDEN. MY HEALTH. OUT OF TOWN. Price Half-a-Crown each. Price 5^. Crown 8vo, in an Illuminated Binding, HAPPY-THOUGHT HALL. With many Illustrations by the AUTHOR. Price 5J. /// Small Crown 8w, gill edges, THE NEW HISTORY OK SANDFORD AND MERTON. Being a true account of the Adventures of " Masters Tommy and Harry," with their beloved Tutor, " Mr. Barlow." WITH 76 HIGHLY-HUMOROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY LINLEY SAMBOURNE. BRAD13URV, AGNEW, & CO., 8, 9, & 10, BOUVERIE STREET, L.C Bradbury y Agnew, & Go's Publications. In royal Ajo, price 2s. 6d. in wrapper, or 4^. cloth. THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K.G. CARTOONS FROM "PUNCH." 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