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The double lottery on horse-race is a form of speculative finance which I believe found its origin in India. In a country where owners, riders, and trainers can all meet upon a common ground, the double lottery has its attractions. It preceded the bookmaker, just as the bookmaker preceded

the pari - mutuel. Possibly lotteries are no longer held in India. In my day, how ever, it was practically the only means of introducing finance into our race meetings. The lotteries were usually held in the club on the evening before the race. I want you now to come with me to the Malinagar Clubhouse, and follow the sequel to my interview with the apparition.

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and not a few were earnest gamblers who preferred rather to watch for opportunities from the fringe of the crowd than to disclose their methods in the full glare of the tables.

Harry Hewett started to fill the first lottery. It was to cover the "Maiden Steeplechase" that invariably opened this meeting.

"Toss for tickets, gentlemen," cried the Secretary, as he read out the declared starters in the race. "Come, I will toss any one for five."

Fresh from the cheery influences of the dinner-table, the dice-boxes rattled merrily down the table. It was as much as the Secretary could do to keep pace with the demand to have the results recorded.

"Now, gentlemen, a thousand rupees in the lottery, and Mr Hughes' Marmion for sale."

"Who will ride Marmion?" cried a voice.

"Riders declared only at the scales," answered Harry Hewett.

"What's he declared to carry?" came another voice. "Eleven stone," was the information.

At that moment I was standing just behind the Secretary, where I could refresh my memory from his papers and catch the eye of the man down the table who would do my bidding for me. Hughes, the owner of Marmion, came up to me. "Maxwell tells me that you are not riding The Bean for him, Jimmy. Will you ride Marmion for me?"

At the head of a long table sat Harry Hewett, the secretary of the meeting. On either side along the benches were gathered the gamblers. Some were owners, others commissioners for owners; the majority were "punters pure and simple,-good-hearted sportsmen, prepared to trust their luck in drawing favourites to the chance of the dice - box. Grouped behind the table were half a hundred other sportsmen, Some of these were gentlemen riders, others spectators, question.

The Secretary caught the

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your craft to know what happens in a race outside your own personal effort!"

I had tried to draw blood, but Lidbetter's face moved no muscle as he answered with honeyed venom in his voice

"Then we may expect one of your own special brands of manœuvres de convenance, Jimmy; doubtless you will have changed your mind by midday to-morrow. For my part, I think that the rider should be included in the starting declaration!"

The kindly Secretary stepped into the breach.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is a lottery, not an acrimonious debating society. Now let us have a bid for Marmion, rider unknown." "I am

I leaned forward. riding Marmion, and I shall ride all through the meeting!"

he

The response was something like a cheer; but though Lidbetter's face flushed perhaps just a little, he sat on with the same smile of cynical indulgence on his lips. At least he could congratulate himself upon one success. By his insinuation that bad faith was the motive that moved me had broken down my resolve not to ride during the meeting. After this episode the lotteries went through cheerily enough. Having finished the business in which I was concerned, I left the clubhouse and walked across the grounds to where the music of our band told me that the final dance of the meeting was in full progress. The ballroom w&8 a huge shamiana, with a floor built

for the occasion. It was a rare thing for me to join in the revelry of dances. But on this particular evening I had come with the fixed intention of having a momentous interview with Margaret Calthorpe. I was fortunate to find her standing with a partner at the buffet. "A dance, Captain Jimmy? Why, my programme was full before dinner this evening!"

"You cannot combine finance and pleasure, Jimmy," said her partner. "While you are making money at the lotteries, we who have no fortune but our faces get the best we can out of life. But don't you believe him, Miss Calthorpe, when he comes playing the 'idiot boy' here. He knows well enough that your programme has been full for hours, and he wants to steal another fellow's good luck from him. No, the 'idiot boy' is all right on the racecourse, but it won't do in the ballroom: come along, Miss Calthorpe, we mustn't lose any of this waltz!"

As her partner's arm closed round her waist she leant over to me. "Captain Jimmy, you

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vacancy. The first supper extra.' She was gone and lost in the maelstrom of dancers before I could thank her.

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nitely refused or bidden to possess myself in hope. She had been very agitated. I had felt her hand tremble during the short space she had allowed it to remain in mine. But she had not said "No," and more certainly she had not said "Yes." I was inexperienced in these matters, and to be in love was a desperate affair to a man with my then desperate nature. I buoyed myself with hope for the future. As I entered the club I heard a rousing cheer. group of roysterers were drinking at the bar. Lidbetter had the neck of a magnum in his hand.

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"There is nothing that can beat the old horse," I answered. "He is as honest as daylight. What is Lidbetter riding?"

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animal with a hard mouth. For this reason the wings of the jump were higher than usual. One of our leaders ran out, and Lidbetter, who was level on my near, dropped back to a length behind me. Then just as I was collecting Marmion to take off, Ginger came up with a rush on my off, and, as we rose, hit Marmion

us, a hopeless mess, into the big wing. I myself went through the wing, and Marmion lay pinned across its debris. Ginger, however, only blundered on to the top of the jump, and somehow wriggled over without unseating his rider.

Reynold's Ginger.' "Well, he is not going to win, anyway, so you may consider your 1500 safe, old boy, 1500 safe, old boy," and with that I handed him my whip and settled into the scales. It was a two-mile chase, once full in the flank. It threw and half round the course. The starting - post was some little distance from the paddock. There were five entries. None of them were of much account. Ginger, whom Lidbetter was riding, was the most dangerous; he was, however, a bad-tempered brute, given to rushing his fences. I had often ridden old Marmion before, and I felt that we could deal with Ginger all right; besides, as my feelings towards Lidbetter were extraordinarily bitter, it was not with the intention of pandering to his mount's temper that I went to the post.

There was no trouble at the start. The three outsiders immediately went to the front. Lidbetter and I held back. The first fence was an open ditch brushed on the far side. One of the leaders hit the guard rail and blundered badly into the field. Ginger and Marmion rose together. I had a look at Lidbetter as we landed. His face mocked at me openly. The next fence was almost completely hidden from the stand. It was simply a brushed fence with a high guard-rail, and was not a difficult obstacle, but the approach was awkward if you had an

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By the time I got Marmion out of the wing it was too late to think of saving Hughes's money. The race was lost. That the accident was due to a deliberate piece of foul riding there was no doubt, but the foul was too well calculated for assertion. The jump was practically hidden from the stand; we were lying last in the race, and Ginger had a reputation for evil practices at his fences.

"Devilish sorry we bumped, Jimmy," said Lidbetter from the scales, "but old Ginger's an uncertain brute!"

I said nothing. There was nothing that I could say. The big race was yet to come.

The Top had done me credit. He stripped trained to a hair. His dark chestnut coat glistened in the sun, and every muscle of his sinewy shoulder and powerful quarters stood out firmly defined. There was not an ounce of superfluous

flesh anywhere, and as he arched his neck, and picked his way round the paddock, he was the cynosure of every eye. Margaret Calthorpe was standing near me when the saddling bell rang

"Oh, Captain Jimmy, isn't he a beauty!" Then as she possibly read the anxiety in my face, she said softly, "I hope you did not hurt yourself when Marmion blundered just now." "Marmion never blundered, Miss Calthorpe; he was ridden into the wing."

Perhaps I said this sullenly. Perhaps she realised what had happened and why it happened, for she turned quickly from me without ever so much as wishing The Top luck in the great race. She had turned to look at St Quintin, who now made his first appearance.

I saw the bright bay with black points for the first time too. His owners had kept him out of sight up to the present. He was a beauty to look at; but he was a horse, not a pony. Poor old Walter had been right-he must have been the best measured pony in India. Whatever he was, he stripped a perfect picture. Perhaps there was just a little too much barrel. My experience in such matters told me that he was an animal that took his food well, and was consequently difficult to train fine. He made quite a furore in the paddock, and a dozen hands stretched out to congratulate Lidbetter, who was senior partner in the Ionides stable. But I had

no time to pay heed to Lidbetter's bearing; that would be my business once we were at the post. For the few remaining seconds I wanted to pick up all I could about his mount. He had the inquisitive eye of a nervous animal,-not vicious, but excitable. I would have to trust The Top's great staying and leaping powers, for on the flat the big St Quintin must beat him for pace every time. As the mounting bell rang, and some friend gave me a leg up, the thought uppermost in my mind was thankfulness that the race was two miles and a quarter.

The Top walked, sedately out. You would have said that all the business and property of horse racing bored him. Not so St Quintin. Lidbetter had some trouble to

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mount him, and then further trouble to get him on to the course. There were five other starters: Grey Ghost, Loch Lomond, Banshee, Carafe II., and Dick Swiveller. I knew them all, and had, I believe, ridden each of them in various races. There were none of them really to be feared, but at the same time none of them were to be despised. As we went down to the post I watched St Quintin narrowly. Lidbetter, who could never resist a little play to the gallery, had taken the bay

over the preliminary hurdle. He jumped big and well; but the essay, and doubtless the acclamation from the stand, added to the pony's excitement. As he lumbaied

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