"I can do with a good tip," went on this refreshing youth, "for I don't mind telling you that I got pretty badly hit at Newmarket last week. Newmarket always plays the deuce with me. Luckily Jenny sold some of her precious flowers and pulled me out of the hole, more than £50, you know. Pretty bad little hole, eh, what?" He gave a fatuous little giggle that made Cleek feel inclined to shake him. "But I don't mind, I'll win it all back next week, and I'll make it up to her," he went on hopefully, with a wink at his companion. But Cleek's mind was now working at lightning speed, though he was apparently deeply interested in Wynne's conversation. Fifty pounds paid for flowers. What flowers could this girl raise in a riverside cottage that would produce such a sum? Somebody must have paid heavily for something other than flowers; that was certain. "Talking of flowers," he said, casually, as young Wynne stopped to light a fresh cigarette. "I'm a bit of a ruralist at times, and I'd like to see Miss Wynne's collection if I may. I go in for dahlias myself, but I suppose Miss Wynne's flowers are pretty valuable; orchids, and such like." "Good lord, no, only those beastly smelling, sickly funeral flowers, hyacinths and tulip things," was the reply in an off-hand manner, "cheap as dirt they are, and how she gets the money beats me. But then Jenny always was a problem since the day she was born." Cleek felt he wanted to see more of this interesting pair before he had done with them. Already he had gained some valuable information, for Miss Jennifer Wynne had evidently been well paid for her flowers, hyacinths or tulips or whatever they might be, or she could never have given this young idiot fifty pounds to pay his racing debts. So well did he contrive to work his way into the good graces of both brother and sister that when Ailsa insisted on taking the short cut through the fields to her own home alone, Cleek was easily persuaded to return for lunch to the house where the young couple had lived ever since the days before their father's death. Herein were pictures of every horse, jockey, and trainer that had ever lived. "See that horse there, Beauty?" said Wynne, after they had been in the house a few minutes. "Well, that old sport got me the finest gold watch I ever saw. That one over there is Bay Tree II, the best tip I ever had, 100 to 1 chance. Only I didn't have more than ten bob in my pockets, worse luck. I'll tell you about the rest after lunch if you like." Cleek was frankly bored, but he kept his feeling in restraint, being on the watch to get what information he could. "Delighted, my boy!" he said, cordially. Then as the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel outside came to his alert ears, he stopped short, and Wynne looked down through the open window and withdrew his head with a little muttered exclamation of disgust.