Jack bounced out of his chair as if he had been stung. "That beast!" he gasped.
"Raffles?" said Acton, with a slow smile. "I didn't know he was a beast."
"He is the meanest skunk alive," said Jack. He added fervently, "Acton, have no dealings with that fellow. He is an abominable sharper."
"Thanks," said Acton, with a slight grimace at Jack's advice. "But, all the same, I have to deal through Raffles."
"Then write to the fellow."
"I don't know—I've forgotten his address."
"Well, I'm hanged if I understand it!" said Jack, lost in astonishment. "If you don't know it, and your bookmaker will only bet through Raffles, you are in a hole—a marvellously deep one."
"There's only one way out—find Raffles."
"And that you can't do."
"And that I think I can do by going to London."