Produced by Al Haines. *THE MAN IN RATCATCHER* *AND OTHER STORIES* BY "SAPPER" AUTHOR OF "BULL-DOG DRUMMOND," "THE BLACK GANG," ETC. HODDER AND STOUGHTON LIMITED LONDON 1921 Made and Printed in Great Britain. Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury. *Contents* I. THE MAN IN RATCATCHER II. "AN ARROW AT A VENTURE" III. THE HOUSE BY THE HEADLAND IV. THE MAN WHO WOULD NOT PLAY CARDS V. A QUESTION OF PERSONALITY VI. THE UNBROKEN LINE VII. THE REAL TEST VIII. "GOOD HUNTING, OLD CHAP" IX. THE MAN WITH HIS HAND IN HIS POCKET X. A PAYMENT ON ACCOUNT XI. THE POSER _*I — The Man in Ratcatcher*_ *I* "’E ain’t much ter look at, Major, but ’e’s a ’andy little ’orse." A groom, chewing the inevitable straw, gave a final polish to the saddle, and then stood at the animal’s head, waiting for the tall, spare man with the bronzed, weather-beaten face, who was slowly drawing on his gloves in the yard, to mount. Idly the groom wondered if the would-be sportsman knew which side of a horse it was customary to get into the saddle from; in fact one Nimrod recently—a gentleman clothed in spotless pink—had so far excelled himself as to come to rest facing his horse’s tail. But what could you expect these times, reflected the groom, when most of the men who could ride in days gone by would ride no more; and a crowd of galloping tinkers, with rank cigars and ranker manners, had taken their places? When he thought of the men who came now—and the women, too—to Boddington’s Livery Stable, renowned for fifty years and with a reputation second to none, and contrasted them with their predecessors, he was wont to spit, mentally and literally. And the quods—Strewth! It was a fair disgrace to turn out such ’orses from Boddington’s. Only the crowd wot rode ’em didn’t know no better: the ’orses was quite good enough—aye! too good—for the likes o’ them. "Let out that throat-lash a couple of holes." The groom looked at the speaker dazedly for a moment; a bloke that knew the name of a single bit of saddlery on a horse’s back was a rare customer these days. "And take that ironmonger’s shop out of the poor brute’s mouth. I’ll ride him on a snaffle." "’E pulls a bit when ’e’s fresh, Major," said the groom, dubiously. The tall, spare man laughed. "I think I’ll risk it," he answered. "Where did you pick him up—at a jumble sale?"