"What did I tell you?" Raffle chuckled. "Well, they can't blame me. I was told by Sir George to do the best I could with the horse and I carried out my instructions to the letter. No, sir, I didn't back him myself. I wasn't quite sure. Besides, Sir George wouldn't have liked it. Between you and me, sir, I don't think he'll be altogether pleased." Fielden asked no questions. Whatever suspicions Raffle had he kept to himself. Fielden glanced at his watch and saw he would just have time to catch a train to town and join Phillips at the rendezvous in Covent Garden. He hurried away from the course and caught his train by sheer good luck. He wasn't at all easy in his mind. He was inclined to agree with Raffle that there was more than met the eye in this affair and that Sir George had little consideration for the public when he decided to run the colt at Mirst Park. On the face of it, it was a mad thing to do and the fact that the horse had won rendered Sir George's policy all the more inexplicable. There was something sinister, too, in the close friendship which had sprung up between Haredale and Copley. That Copley was an unscrupulous blackguard Fielden knew very well. Possibly this knowledge was not shared by Sir George, but there was no getting over the fact that Haredale's money matters were in a critical state. Better men than Sir George had yielded to temptation. Fielden was still debating the matter when he reached town. He turned up at the hotel in Covent Garden where Phillips was awaiting him, it wanting then just ten minutes to three. Phillips was relieved when Fielden came in. "I thought you were going to fail me," he said. "I began to think that you had missed your train." "I very nearly lost it," Fielden laughed. "But why do you want me?" "We shall see that in good time, sir," Phillips said. "In about ten minutes from now we shall begin operations. There is just time to smoke a cigarette before we start. What is the best news from Mirst Park? I haven't seen a paper yet. Was the Blenheim colt beaten very disgracefully?" "He wasn't beaten at all," Fielden said. "In fact, he won with considerable ease. There was very little trace of staleness about him. But it is early to talk about that. We must wait and see what old Raffle says to-morrow. I should not be surprised if the colt has done himself some serious injury to-day." Phillips burst into a hearty laugh. "What a joke!" he cried. "And what a sell it will be for Sir George! Oh, I know a thing or two, Mr. Fielden. I haven't been moving about with my eyes shut lately. It is very good of your old friend to pull out his horse in public, for the benefit of backers generally, but the man who will be most surprised and most disappointed at the result of to-day's race will be Sir George himself. If there is another man madder than Sir George it will be that scoundrel Copley." "What do you mean?" Fielden asked.