"What is it?" asked Hector.
"I've won the first part of my bet with The Rascal."
Hector could not help smiling; it seemed a curious piece of news under the circumstances. He said: "I hope you'll win the double."
"It'll mean a fiver to me," said Brack, "and that's a lot to a poor man."
"You shall have a pocket full of fivers when I prove my innocence," said Hector.
"I'd not take 'em," said Brack. "I'd be satisfied to know I'd done you a good turn, that I would," and he meant it.
Next evening Brack was very well pleased with himself when The Rascal won the double. He proceeded to draw his money and enlighten the youthful bookie on the follies of gambling; he also exhibited some liberality in the matter of drinks to several mates.
He saw nothing of Carl Hackler, although he walked about the streets and loitered near the water.
"I'll try it to-night," he thought. "The races are over and maybe the Sea-mew will sail before morning. There's no telling, and it's the best chance there is; it can't be missed; it's too good, even if we run some risk. If I only knew where that Dartmoor chap was. I'd give half my winnings to know—I'd give the whole blessed lot to get him safe on that yacht."
Brack went home full of his plan, and how best to manage it without exciting suspicion.