"Give that to me. Curse you, what d'you mean by it?" Jack sought vainly to rescue his property, but since he could not exercise actual violence there under the Epsom Hill, he was powerless. Rada unfolded the crumpled paper and read the missive.
"It's all right, Jack. I've got Ben to do the job. Only found him this morning. It's all up with Pollux. We've wiped off our little debt, and you can turn your brass upon Castor. Meet you after the race—you know where." The note was signed "Ted."
For a moment Rada stood still, then she found tongue. "You blackguard!" But her breath was coming in deep gasps, and she could say no more.
"Look here, Rada," growled the man, "you've no right to read my letter. But let that pass. Since it's all for your good you won't be such a fool as to kick up a shindy. Your horse will win the Derby, and that's what you want. Give me that paper, and say no more about it."
"No!" Rada crushed the incriminating document in her hand. "I won't!"
He seized her arm. "Give it to me," he hissed. "Rada, if you make a fool of yourself, I swear before God that you shall suffer for it. I can ruin you and your father, and I'll do it."
"Let me go!" The girl struggled free. They were surrounded by a crowd, and the man was helpless. "If you dare to try and hold me, I'll strike you. Yes, here before everyone—I'll strike you with my fist in the face."
Jack swore under his breath. He hurled vile oaths at the girl, but he was powerless. As a cheer from the crowd proclaimed that Castor was galloping down the course, Rada, his owner, darting in and out wildly and ingloriously among vehicles of all kinds, sought the coach.
She failed to find it, but she ran into the arms of Pierce Trelawny, which was more to the point.
"Miss Armitage—-why, what is the matter?"