It was not his debt to Mr. Sheldrake that pressed so heavily upon him; there was a sharper and more terrible sword hanging over him.
"What horses would you back for this money, Alf?"
Alfred, encouraged by a tinge of the old cordiality in Mr. Sheldrake's tone, answered confidently:
"I would put ten pounds on Xanthus, and twenty pounds on Kingcraft."
"And the other ten pounds?"
"I want that to speculate with on the race-course on the day of the race."
"No," said Mr. Sheldrake in a decided tone, "I can't consent to that. I shall give you no money in hand to play ducks and drakes with."
"Well, then, I'll put it all on Kingcraft and Xanthus--fifteen pounds on Xanthus, and twenty-five on Kingcraft."
"What makes you fancy Kingcraft? Xanthus I know is good--all the papers speak up for him."
"Didn't Kingcraft win the Derby?" cried Alfred excitedly. "I'm told that the horse has come back to his old form, and that he's certain to win. A man told me who knows all about it. The stable have been keeping it dark, and they're all going to put their money on. I shall be able to pay you every penny back, and I shall never know how to thank you enough. I've told Liz and Lily that no man ever had such a friend as you are to me, and I'll tell them again. Will you do it for me?"