The letter in question informed Old Mat that Joses had come straight from Portland to Dewhurst; that Chukkers had come down from London by the eleven-twenty-seven; that Ikey had been expected but had not turned up, and that the six-forty-two had taken Joses on to Cuckmere. After the trial gallop, and the meeting with the fat man on the hill, Old Mat showed the letter to Silver. "He'll want watching, Mr. Joses will," he said. "He didn't look very pretty, did he?" said the young man. "Yes," mused the old man. "A little job o' work for Monkey, that'll be. He don't like Chukkers, Monkey don't." He pursed his lips and lifting an eye-lid looked at the other from beneath it. His blue eye was dreamy, dewy, and twinkling remotely through a mist. "Rogues and rasqueals, Mr. Silver!" he said. "Whatebber should we do without um?" CHAPTER XXXVI Monkey Sulks On the Sunday after the trial on the Mare's Back Jerry went solemnly round the assembled lads before Bible Class, his hat in his hand and in the hat a couple of coppers. "What for?" asked Alf, the cherub. The lads were used to what they called "levies" in the stable--sometimes for a new football or something for the club, sometimes for a pal who was in a hole. "Mr. Silver," answered Jerry. "He's done us proud while he could. Now it's our turn to do a bit for him." "Is it as bad as all that?" asked Alf, wide-eyed. "It's worse," said Jerry, with dramatic restraint. The cherub peeped into the hat, fingering a tanner. He was genuinely concerned for Mr. Silver. "If I put in a tanner, how'll I know Mr. Silver'll get it?" he asked ingenuously. Stanley jeered, and Jerry shot his chin forward. "Say, young Alf," he said. "Am I a genelman?--or ain't I?" "That ain't 'ardly for me to say, Jerry," answered the cherub with delicate tact. Then there might have been trouble but for the interference of the lordly Albert. "Don't you let him pinch nothin' off o' you, Alf," he said. "Mr. Silver's all right." "What ye mean?" asked the indignant Jerry. "Ain't he broke then?" "He'll be a rich man again by then I done with him," answered Albert loftily. "That's what I mean." "When will you be done with him then?" jeered Jerry. "After the National," answered Albert. "Yes, my boy, you'll get your 'alf-dollar at Christmas same as usual--if so be you deserves it." Jerry sneered. "Albert thinks _he's_ goin' to get the ride," he cried. "Likely!--G-r-r-r!" Albert was unmoved as a mountain and as coldly majestic. "I don't think. I knows," he said, folding his arms. "What do you know then?" "I knows what I knows," answered Albert, in true sacerdotal style. "And I knows more'n them as don't know nothin'."