"Let me see. The odds about Kingcraft are—"
"Fifteen to one," interposed Alfred eagerly; "and six to one about Xanthus. I only back Xanthus to save myself. One or other is certain to pull off the race."
"Very well; Ill give you the odds myself."
"You will! You are a trump, and no mistake. How can I thank you! Are you making a book on the race?"
"Yes, and it will be better for you that I should take the bet rather than anybody else; for then," he added with a quiet chuckle, "the money will be safe."
"Yes, that it will," said Alfred in all sincerity. "Fifteen to one to twenty-five pounds--that will be three hundred and seventy-five pounds if I win on Kingcraft, and ninety pounds, if Xanthus wins."
He felt as if he had the larger sum already in his pocket, and the despair which filled him but a few minutes since was swallowed up in the false hope.
"I will send you the vouchers to-morrow, and now I want your voucher for this money that I am going to lend you."
Always willing enough to give his signature, Alfred waited, pen in hand, while Mr. Sheldrake drew up the paper. It was to the effect that Alfred had borrowed of him forty pounds, with which he had backed two horses named for the City and Suburban Race, to be run at Epsom on Tuesday 23rd of April, and that he promised to pay back the money the Saturday after the race.
Alfred read it carelessly, and remarked, as he signed it,