Lesley hid her smile deftly; she had ample practice in the art with her pupil. 'And I don't know which is the rankest outsider, so we must take it on chance,' she replied tartly.
The little laddie's face fell, but he stood firm. 'Please, I'd wather take it on the--the other; for Mr. Waymond knows lots about betting and you don't know nothing.'
'I'm glad I don't!' she retorted, feeling quite nettled, for Jerry's obstinate adherence to his ideal was not to be set aside with a high hand. 'And what is more, I don't wish to; so if you're not satisfied, we needn't take the ticket at all!' So far she got almost spitefully, then something smote the womanhood and motherhood in her. 'Or,' she went on, 'suppose we take one on Kingscraft--every one says he is sure to win.'
The boy's face was a study of pitying contempt. 'Kingscwaft!' he echoed. 'Why, he's the favourite, and I'm not going to foller a lead--I'm going to collar the lot!'
A sudden mist came to the girl's eyes; and through it she seemed to see the sturdy little soul enshrined in the sturdy little body. She held out her hand and said simply, 'Come, there's Mr. Raymond--he'll know.'
'The rankest outsider?' echoed Jack Raymond quite gravely. 'Let's have a look at the card, Jerry.' Then, as he stooped over the child, he added, 'Shall I read out the names, or can you?'
The confessional scarlet flew to the little lad's very ears this time. 'Only some, I'm 'fwaid. That one's Kitten. An' I know that other one--least one end of it I do, 'cos it's Miss Dwummond's name.'
'Which? Bonnie Lesley?' asked Jack Raymond, and the scarlet flag flew to another face.
'Only the other end of it, please,' corrected Jerry; whereat one flush vanished in two laughs.
'My name doesn't matter, dear; read the next,' began Lesley, when Jack Raymond interrupted her.