The night was quite dark, and the lights still burning about the stables had very little effect at ten o’clock, when the detective made his appearance at the place indicated by the boy. The jockey was in waiting for him, and soon had him snugly stowed away under Denver Bay’s manger. The horse did not seem to relish this invasion of his private domain to any great extent, but save a few snorts and an emphatic stamp or two, he paid little attention to his unbidden guest. There were sounds of voices about the place for some time after the detective had secured his position, but just before midnight all grew still. Now and then a steady footstep sounded in the distance, but in the immediate vicinity all was quiet. “Now I wonder,” thought Nick, “if that sheriff’s officer is attending strictly to business. He seems to be an intelligent and nervy sort of chap, and I guess I can trust him.” After what seemed hours to the waiting detective, he heard an inner door opened cautiously and the footfalls of two persons were heard stealthily advancing toward the place where he lay concealed. “That’s the horse over there,” said a voice which he had no difficulty in recognizing as that of Morris. “You take the iron and do the work,” said Brower, in a whisper. “Not much. I’m not laming race horses for a living just now.” “You’ve done worse than that before now.” “Well, everything I ever tackled had some sort of a show.” “Will you obey my orders?” “I will not.” “Then I’ll do it myself. You stand here and watch.” “Now, then,” thought Nick, “I wonder if that deputy sheriff is near the door.” Just then the low yelp of a dog sounded from the outside. “That’s he!” he thought. “Hark!” whispered Brower, “what was that noise?” “Some dog hunting for a bone or a place to sleep, I suppose.” “Hunting us, probably.” “You’re a coward.” “The fact is, I don’t like this sort of thing.” “Then leave it.” “And leave my ten-thousand dollar stake against a thousand? Not much.” “You were a fool to make that bet.” “I know that as well as you do, but I was crowded into it.” “You’re better at lifting money from a Wall Street office than at anything else, I guess.” “Hush! you had your share of the money, didn’t you?” “Yes, I had it until you got me into a poker game.” “Well, I presume the broker has made twenty thousand since that time. So it don’t matter.” “This is no place to talk over such things. Do your work, and let’s get out of here.” “I hope the Bay will kick his head off,” thought Nick, as the man approached the head of the stall. “Now, gentlemen,” spoke a voice from out the darkness, “I have the drop on you, and if you make a move until I say the word I’ll blow your brains out.” Nick spoke the last word in a loud tone of voice, and in response to the signal the door swung open and a bright light flashed into the place. Behind the light was an officer’s badge, and at the right of the badge was a steady arm carrying a cocked revolver.