'Yes, there's just one chance. If that doesn't come off, I'm done. My pater said he'd give me a quid for every race I won at the sports. I got the half yesterday all right when you were up at Aldershot.'
'Good man. I didn't hear about that. What time? Anything good?'
'Nothing special. 2-7 and three-fifths.'
'That's awfully good. You ought to pull off the mile, too, I should think.'
'Yes, with luck. Drake's the man I'm afraid of. He's done it in 4-48 twice during training. He was second in the half yesterday by about three yards, but you can't tell anything from that. He sprinted too late.'
'What's your best for the mile?'
'I have done 4-47, but only once. 4-48's my average, so there's nothing to choose between us on paper.'
'Well, you've got more to make you buck up than he has. There must be something in that.'
'Yes, by Jove. I'll win if I expire on the tape. I shan't spare myself with that quid on the horizon.'
'No. Hullo, there's the bell. We must buck up. Going to Charteris' gorge tonight?'