“Where's Blanquette?” continued Ralph, a little reassured by this, as they moved away towards the Paddock. “Mr Blanquette is not here, Mr Derrick.” “Not here? Why, he was to join you the day before yesterday, otherwise I would have come myself.” “He _has_ been here, sir, but he's gone away again?” “What! Is he not coming back to-day?” “I hope so, sir; I most sincerity hope so; but the fact is--now take 'it quietly, for it's none of my fault--he's gone after Jack Withers.” In an instant, while Walter ejaculated a smothered cry of agony and wrath, Derrick had seized the trainer by the throat. “You know me, sir,” cried he. “As I swore to treat that tout on the Downs at Mirk, so will I treat you, if that jockey”---- But two blue-coated men had thrust themselves between the strong man and his victim; a gentleman in a tight-buttoned frock-coat was coming up, too, in plain clothes, with that swift determined stride peculiar to members of “the force,” and the crowd grew very thick about them, and a thousand eyes were being concentrated upon Ralph's furious face, he knew. If his temper was lost now, he felt that all was lost. With an effort that almost cost him a fit of apoplexy--“I am sorry,” said he, “that I laid my hand upon you, Mr Chifney.” “That will do,” returned the trainer quietly, arranging his neckcloth. “Mr Inspector, you know me, and there is no occasion for your services.” “All right, Mr Chifney, but you have got a rummish customer to deal with there,” replied the guardian of the law, stroking his chin, and looking at Derrick, much as a vice-president of the Zoological Society might regard a novelty in wild beasts, that had been half-promised to the establishment, and then withdrawn. “I have never been treated thus,” complained the trainer, as the three moved away, and the gaping crowd gathered round some other object of attraction, “and have never deserved such treatment from any employer of mine, although I have kept racing-stables these thirty years. I can make some allowance for one who has so much money on this horse, as I know _you_ have, Mr Derrick, but I give you my honour and word that I was as astounded as Mr Blanquette himself, when I heard the news that Jack had skedaddled. He was your own jockey, remember, not mine: no boy in my stables has ever played such a scurvy trick as this.” “Have you any boy that can take this scoundrel's place?” asked Captain Lisgard impatiently. “I have got as good riders as can be got, Master Walter, upon so short a notice; and _Menelaus_ shall have the pick of them. But you know what a devil of a temper the horse has; and this Withers was the only lad who understood him.” “How comes it that Blanquette has gone to look for him?” asked Derrick thoughtfully. “Does he know where he is likely to be found?” “Not as I know of, sir,” returned the trainer gravely, “He said he would bring him back Dead or Alive--those were his words.”