"She'll do it," said Jaggers confidently. "I'll back my Iroquois against their Berserk—if Berserk he is."
"He's Berserk," said Chukkers doggedly. "A blind man at midnight could tell that from his fencing. Goes at 'em like a lion. Such a lift to him, too! Is Monkey Brand goin' to ride him?" he asked Joses.
"No. Turned down. Too old."
"Then the lad as rode him at Lingfield will," said Chukkers. "Sooner him than Monkey anyway. If Monkey couldn't win himself he'd see I didn't. Ride me down and ram me. The lad wouldn't 'ave the nerve. Face like a girl."
"Monkey ain't the only one," muttered Joses. "Silver's in it, too—up to the neck."
When Joses left to catch his train Jaggers accompanied him across the yard.
"Yes," he said, "if she wins there'll be plenty for all."
The tout hovered in the gate.
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, with emphasis. "Very glad."
Jaggers threw up his head in that free, frank way of his.