"So you are going racing?"
"Well, I had thought of it. I don't often get the chance of treating myself, and my idea was to run down to Mirst Park this afternoon. You're going, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes, I am going down on business. But I wanted you to stay in town and do a little commission for me."
The Major's florid face fell.
"That is very awkward," he muttered. "You see, I promised to take my daughter with me. She is fonder of that kind of thing than I am, and the poor child seldom has an outing. In the old days of my prosperity Alice had her own horse, and deuced good across country she was. Can't you manage to put it off till to-morrow, Phillips? I shall be greatly obliged if you can."
Phillips reflected for a moment.
"Very well," he said. "I daresay it can be managed. I will see you on the course this afternoon and let you know what my address is. If you are discreet and cautious over this little matter there is a fair sum of money in it for you. You can drop me a note to-night, because there is no pressing hurry, and you can get the information this evening or early to-morrow. What you have to do is to go round to the Post Club and find out all the heavy bets which were made there with Selwyn in connexion with to-day's racing at Mirst Park. You must let me know with whom the bets were made and who made them. I think that is all. But I shall see you on the course later, and if anything crops up in the meantime I shall let you know."
There was nothing to prevent Phillips from making his way to Mirst Park. Half an hour later he took train from Waterloo and, arrived at his destination, proceeded to look out for lodgings. He had his own reasons for preferring rooms to an hotel. He needed to keep himself as quiet as possible. This matter satisfactorily settled, he turned his steps to the course, which was as yet practically deserted. There was little to indicate that a race meeting was in progress, excepting the shows and roundabouts and booths outside the stands and paddocks. There were the usual loafers picnicking on the grass, the usual litter of torn betting-tickets and papers scattered far and wide. Phillips passed along, looking eagerly about him. He wanted somebody who could give him certain information. He stood on the centre of the course, some four or five hundred yards from the ring. He appeared to be admiring the landscape, which was pleasant enough under the brilliant sunshine, though this was interspersed now and then by ominous-looking clouds which seemed to threaten snow later.
As most people know, Mirst Park course is situated in a kind of theatre, with rising ground behind the stands, so that it is possible for everybody to obtain a perfect view of a race from start to finish. Peeping out of the trees here and there were a few good-class houses, one of which, standing higher than the rest, towered over the top of the grand stand. There was the suggestion of a smile on Phillips' face as he adjusted his racing-glasses and made a close inspection of the house in question. He could see that it possessed a flat roof with a parapet around it. Phillips was still intent upon his examination when a policeman with a fine air of detachment strolled by.
"The best natural course I have ever seen," Phillips said with enthusiasm. "Have you got many like this in these parts, officer?"