Dangerous Dilemmas: Startling but True

by James Anderson Peddie

This antagonistic movement I could not understand, as a letter from the trainer had reached me only that morning stating that the horse was in excellent health, and a telegram would at once have been sent to me if there had been an accident. I put the movement down to a clique, who had overlaid and were desirous of making themselves safe.

Next day the horse was brought to his former position in the quotations, when it was seen from the sporting journals that he had done his usual work on the previous day, but just before three o'clock the opposition commenced again with renewed vigour, and this time he receded to 20 to 1.

At that period my partner and I both lived in the country, but I was nearest to the place where Santorin was trained. On the following day I hastened to have a look at the horse, and endeavoured to get some explanation from the trainer. I saw the horse stripped and witnessed him gallop, but could find nothing wrong with him, his eyes shining like diamonds, his coat as bright as satin, and his every step showing perfect health. The trainer, a most painstaking, trustworthy man, said the betting was incomprehensible, and he could make nothing of it, but it had made him extra careful with the lads.

In order to get some clue to this affair, I asked a friend at the club to send me the names of the men who were operating against the horse, and was alarmed to find that it was some of the largest bookmakers who had led the opposition. There was no time to lose, as the day was fast approaching.

The mystery I determined to solve, and with that view I went, post haste, to my partner, who, strange to say, had not troubled himself about the horse's retrogression in the betting. I had not seen him for a few weeks. When we last parted he seemed in good health and capital spirits, but he now looked as miserable as a sick dog, and had scarcely any life in him. In so short a period I never beheld such an alteration in any man. What is the matter here?—another mystery, I thought. And I wondered if there was any connection between the opposition at the club and the great change in my partner!

I related to him everything in connection with the affair, and plied him with questions, but his invariable answer was, "I cannot make it out!"

I was anything but satisfied, as his failure to send inquiries about the horse was suspicious. Going into the garden to get a blow of fresh air and collect my ideas, I met Miss Emerson, who seemed by her manner to be expecting me.

"This is very strange about Santorin," she said, at once commencing the conversation.

"It is unaccountable," I replied. "And what makes it worse, your uncle is in such a wretched state of health. Not having heard of his illness, I was greatly surprised at his changed appearance."