[CHAPTER XLI.]
ON THE WATCH.
When Alfred was clear of the crowd, he paused for a moment, and looked around with a vacant stare. In that moment his eyes fell upon Mr. David Sheldrake, who accosted him gaily. Alfred's parched lips moved in response, but no sound came from them. He thought he had spoken aloud, however, and his eyes, after the first swift recognition of Mr. Sheldrake, sought the ground miserably. Mr. Sheldrake made a pretence of not observing Alfred's uneasiness, and he went on to say airily, that he had had a slice of good luck in the City and Suburban, and that he had strolled away from the betting-ring to cool his excitement.
"I was looking for you before the race," he said: "I wanted to give you the tip. I was told by the best jockey of the day that Digby Grand could not be beaten, and I backed the horse, and I wanted you to back it also. But perhaps you did."
He paused for a reply, but Alfred said no word. He was in a stupor of despair. Mr. Sheldrake continued,
"You'll be able to square up now, I suppose. I don't care so much for myself, although, of course, the money will come acceptable, but Con Staveley swears he'll be down on you to-morrow. He says he'll go to your place of business, and if you don't pay, he'll split on you to your employers. That would be serious, wouldn't it? I should advise you not to have anything more to do with Con; he's a hard nail. How much have you won? A couple of monkeys at least, I hope. You must let me into the secret of that new system of yours."
Still no reply from Alfred. Mr. Sheldrake's tone grew grave. He laid his hand upon Alfred's arm, and Alfred shivered at the touch, and feebly endeavoured to shake off the grasp.
"I must insist upon an answer, Alf. Have you won or lost?"
"Lost!" muttered Alfred hoarsely.
"How much?" demanded Mr. Sheldrake.