Pallid recognised the Chinaman and whinnied a welcome nearly as articulate as the other’s reply. Chin Chin’s plan was already laid. He did not seem to need light to execute it. He groped about for a billet of wood in a spot he knew of, and drawing a fine fishing line from his pocket, made it fast to the billet, which he then threw over a beam running the length of the stable. He drew the billet up to the beam by his line, and holding the end, wormed himself in under a heap of hay that filled the stall next to Pallid’s. He found that, without changing his position, he could pass his hand into the adjoining manger. It seemed he had a fancy of possible danger, for he took from his breast pocket a perilous piratical knife and laid it in the manger at his side.
“Pigeon—all same—Hi yah!” said he, with gleaming teeth and a grin.
Chin Chin waited, probably dreaming of the Central Flowery Land and fancying himself under the shade of his native tea plant, offering a tidbit of rat pie to the fair Pettitoes in sabots, skewered hair, talon finger-nails, and brocaded raiment.
His tender, nostalgic reverie was disturbed by the cautious turning of a key. The door opened and two men armed with a slide lantern entered. They drew up the slide and stood revealed, a precious pair, Belden and Figgins, come to superintend the training of Pallid for to-morrow’s race.
They peered cautiously round the stable—nothing but horses and hay. They could not see that snake-in-the-grass watching them with glittering eye and keen delight.
“We must do it quick, Figgy,” said Belden; “give me the ball. You hold the light. Whoa, Pallid!”
He stepped to the stall, and patting Pallid on the neck, placed a very suspicious-looking horse-ball in the manger. Pallid was beginning to turn it over and sniff at it, when—slam, bang!—Chin Chin let go the billet. It crashed to the floor, knocking down sundry objects with a terrible clatter.
The conspirators started, looked at each other fearfully, and sprang back as if to escape. The noise ceasing, they looked about with anxiety. Belden caught sight of the billet and its effects.
“Bah!” said he. “Nothing but a stick of wood fallen down——” and turned back to the horse.
Meantime, under cover of the noise and panic, Chin Chin had snatched away the dosed sausage from Pallid’s manger, and thrown in a handful of oats. The horse champed them.