"That scoundrel Jack Treves appears to have arranged with Ted Wilson, the jockey--both enemies of yours, Mostyn--to play a dirty trick upon Pollux. They got Benjamin Harris to do it. Ben Harris was one of old Treves's stablemen once, and I expect it was he who doctored Silver Star at Jack's orders, but that's by the way. I'm glad to say he was caught by the police, and he's given the whole plot away. Jack and Wilson will catch it hot, and serve them right, too! What the scoundrel did was to hide, as he thought, behind a tree, and shoot at Pollux with an air-gun, or a catapult or something of the sort. No wonder the poor beast swerved and fell. Pollux was leading at the time and was going to win." "I'm not so sure of that," put in Rada, in spite of her shyness. "Well, never mind. What is really of importance is that Miss Armitage, just before the race, surprised a note written to Jack by Wilson, which gave the whole game away. And, as it happened, Miss Armitage knew just how you were situated, Mostyn. It was my fault, for I let it all out, and I'm glad I did." He stared defiantly at his friend, and laughed. "Don't scold me now, however--you can do all that when I've finished my yarn. Well, as long as things were straight and above board Miss Armitage would have let matters take their course--you stood a good sporting chance to win. But when she found out the plot she came to me--the race was just about to start--and made me take her to the stewards. I didn't know what she meant to do till we were in the presence of those august individuals. Then she announced that she wanted to make Castor over to you. Of course, there were all sorts of difficulties in the way, but Miss Armitage got over them all. I think she must have fascinated the gentlemen. Of course I don't know what they thought"--he glanced slyly at Rada, who turned away blushing. "Anyway," Pierce went on, "the stewards are omnipotent, you know. So a transfer was signed and attested, countersigned by the stewards, and a wire was sent to Weatherby's. It was all in order, I can assure you, and quite legal. Of course, it was too late to make any immediate announcement, so the race had to go on as it was, Castor being ridden in Miss Armitage's colours. But Castor is your horse, Mostyn; no one can dispute that, nor your right to Anthony Royce's millions. I congratulate you a thousand times. There, now I've told you everything." It was when Pierce ceased speaking, and as Mostyn, his eyes fixed upon Rada, could find no words to reply, that John Clithero stepped across the room and took the girl's hand in his.