But, like the weak man he was, when the pinch came he did neither of these things. It would never have occurred to him to assert that he was a man of honour. All the world had taken it for granted, and in this opinion Sir George shared. But, on the other hand, he was face to face with disgrace, and in a few days would be homeless and penniless, a mark for the finger of scorn, and the object of pity of those whom he had looked down upon from a lofty standpoint. But was there, after all, any great harm in what Copley suggested? Scores of owners of horses had done such things before, and he had a genuine excuse for drawing the pen through the name of the Blenheim colt, since it had fallen ill. If other people benefited by the knowledge, it was no concern of his. If the colt were no better at the end of a fortnight, he could be scratched and things go on as they were. Besides, the colt was a good one, and in the autumn there would be every chance of winning the St. Leger with him. This reasoning was all very specious and wrong, but it wasn't long before Sir George had justified himself, as Copley felt sure he would do. "Wait a little," Sir George said. "You can't expect me to make up my mind at once. I must have time to think it over. But I can't do anything as long as that man is at Haredale Park. If you can get rid of him for me----" "Oh, I think I can do that," Copley interrupted. "But if I telephone to Absalom & Co. from here they will want some guarantee from you that--well, you know what I mean. They won't want any writing, your word will be good enough for that." Sir George expanded at this suggestion. It never struck him that a mere negotiation on this point from Copley's view would be as good as a written document. "I think I can give it," he said. "Very well," Copley said briskly. "I am glad to hear you talk like that. It is a commonsense view of the situation. Sit down and smoke your cigar in peace and don't worry any more about the matter. I'll go into my office and ring up Absalom & Co., and in an hour's time you will be free from your trouble." For three-quarters of an hour Sir George sat immersed in gloomy thoughts. Manipulate the transaction as he might, deceive himself as he pleased, there was no getting away from the fact that he was contemplating a shameful thing, and the knowledge that he was saving himself did not mend matters. The best part of an hour had passed before Copley returned with a cheerful face.