CHAPTER XXVII DRIVING IT HOME

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COPLEY sat at the breakfast-table waiting for Foster to come down. He had glanced impatiently through his letters, none of which appeared to be particularly interesting. Then he picked up a repulsive-looking envelope that lay by the side of his plate. The envelope was greasy and forbidding, though the handwriting upon it was fairly neat and clear, if a trifle unsteady. Copley was on the point of pitching it into the fire, feeling pretty sure it was something in the nature of a begging epistle, when he changed his mind and opened it.

"Dear sir," it ran, "I was on the Downs this morning and saw the trial I was speaking to you about last night. Sir George's head man thought it a dead secret, but I had had it from a sure quarter, and I saw the race between the Blenheim colt and another at half-past seven. The colt was quite stale, and, if I am any judge of such matters, I think it will take all their time to wind him up for the Guineas. I thought you would like to know this, because, properly handled, there is money in it. Perhaps it may be worth a five-pound note to me the next time we meet."

There was no signature to this document, but Copley guessed where it came from. He rose from the table and stood for a while thinking this over. There was money in the tidings, but not in the way hinted at by Chaffey.

"Anything fresh?" Foster asked, as he attacked his breakfast with zest. "You look rather pleased about something."

"Well, I am," Copley said, with a sinister smile he found it hard to conceal. "I've got something here that looks like good business if we can only hold on a bit longer. As you know, we don't quite agree as to how Sir George Haredale is to be handled. If I went to him boldly and told him that he must scratch the Blenheim colt, do you think he would consent if he saw I was in earnest? My opinion is he would kick me out of the house. But there is another way of working it, and for the hint I have to thank Chaffey, of all people in the world. Here is a note from him."

"Wants more money," Foster said with his mouth full.

"Not for the moment, at any rate. He thinks his information is worth a prospective fiver. As a matter of fact, it is invaluable. You know he told us last night that he wasn't going away till he witnessed a trial this morning. He has seen it, and this letter gives me the result. The trial was that of the Blenheim colt. Chaffey says it will take them all their time to get him fit for the Guineas, even if they can manage it. Chaffey is probably in town by now, and has no doubt sold his information to some smart bookmaker. By this time to-morrow the Blenheim colt will be knocked out of the betting, and one will be able to get any price one likes. When this becomes public property Sir George will be justified in scratching the colt. He could say he had no hopes now of winning the Derby, and has taken this step solely on behalf of the public. Everybody will believe him. No questions will be asked, and his conduct will be regarded as most sportsmanlike. Do you see what I am driving at?"

"By Jove!" Foster exclaimed. "That is really smart of you. As Sir George backed his colt at long prices the money loss will be small. You can arrange as to the money Sir George owes you, and directly the pen is put through the colt's name we shall be masters of a hundred thousand pounds. It isn't so much as we expected, but we shall be able to draw the money during the next few days, and then be in a position to carry on a war against the bookmakers till we have made as much as we like. Things are entirely in your hands. You have only to put it plainly to Sir George and offer to cancel his mortgages, and the thing is done. He'll fall in with your suggestion readily. He only wants the excuse to get out. You'll want to handle him carefully, of course. But every man has his price, and I don't believe Haredale is any exception to the rule."

"I'll do it to-day," Copley muttered.

"That's right," Foster said approvingly, "there's nothing like striking while the iron is hot. But if I were you I'd run up to town first and give Absalom & Co. a hint to put the screw on without delay. What you have to do is thoroughly to frighten Sir George, who will probably send for you, and see if he can't arrange terms. We had better motor to London at once. It might be as well to get Absalom's people to send a man down this afternoon to let Sir George know that business is meant. By the time we get back this evening there will be a note from Sir George asking you to go over and see him. If not, I am no prophet."

On the best of terms with themselves the conspirators started for town half an hour later, and before eleven o'clock Copley was closeted with the principal of the well-known financial house of Absalom & Co. Apparently the interview was to his satisfaction, for he soon made his way to the Post Club. Foster joined him at lunch, and up to four o'clock they amused themselves by making small wagers on the day's racing. Soon after five one of the waiters came into the smoking-room and informed Copley that a gentleman was waiting to see him.

He went downstairs to find Mr. Absalom in the ante-room. The latter smiled as he heard the clicking of the machines.

"Do you do anything in that way?" Copley asked.

"Not I," the visitor laughed. "I leave that to the fools who have more money than sense. If there were no such thing as a horse or a bet I should be deprived of nine-tenths of my clients, and instead of being a rich man, I should be hard put to it to obtain a living. So the sport has all my sympathy. But I didn't come here to discuss racing. I want to speak to you about Sir George Haredale. I sent my manager down to see him."

"Yes, yes," Copley said impatiently.

"Oh, I won't detain you longer than I can help. My manager saw Sir George and had a long conversation with him. He was inclined to be high and mighty at first, but we soon changed all that. He was very anxious to know why you had transferred your debt to us, and we told him, of course, that you were engaged in very big speculations which called for all the ready capital you could lay your hands upon. We also hinted that we were finding money tight, and gave him to know that unless the cash was paid within a week, we should have to avail ourselves of our rights and place a man in possession at Haredale Park. That rather knocked the old gentleman off his balance. My manager said he was quite civil after that, and intimated his intention to do everything he could. But, at the same time, he appears to be very much annoyed with you. He thinks you have not treated him fairly, and seems to hope that when he has seen you he can arrange matters. Of course, he hasn't the least idea that we are merely dummies, so if you change your mind you can telephone to us and we will sit tight. He said he expected to see you this evening."

Copley nodded approvingly. There was no need for hurry, for he knew that the longer Sir George Haredale thought over the matter, the more likely he was to yield in the end. After thanking Absalom, who went his way, he sent for Foster.

"It's all right," he said when the latter came downstairs. "Absalom's people have seen Sir George, and have left him in a state of blue funk. I think the best thing we can do is to let him think it over for a day or two, because the longer he dwells upon the prospect before him the more likely he will be to listen to any terms I choose to offer. But we can talk this over after dinner. Let's get back to Seton Manor. By the way, I suppose you have dealt with those commissions. Did you manage to lay any money against the Blenheim colt to advantage? Has the trial leaked out yet?"

"I managed to get a good lump on," Foster explained. "I fancy the story is getting known. According to one of the papers, the Blenheim colt has gone back to six to one. I think we have done as much as we can. At any rate, the money is as good as in our pockets."

At Seton Manor Copley and his accomplice sat down to dinner in higher spirits and with better appetite than they had displayed for some time. There was nothing to trouble them. They had netted a huge sum of money without the slightest risk, and, what was more to the point, they would be in a position to handle it in the course of a few days. There was a good deal of flavour in Copley's cigar as he lay back in his seat sipping his coffee. A moment or two later a footman came in with a note on a tray. Copley smiled as he tore open the envelope, and intimated to the servant that he need not wait.

"From the Baronet?" Foster grinned.

"You've guessed it," Copley replied. "He wants me to go over at once on most important business."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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