"A goldmine given away!" He went up to Swells.

On his lips were the words: "What made you give the show away like that ?" He did not speak them, for in his soul he felt it would not become him to ask his jockey why he had not dissembled and won by a length.

But the little jockey understood at once.
"Mr.Blacksmith's been at me, sir.

You take my tip: he's a queer one, that 'orse.

I thought it best to let him run his own race.