grate. "Shall we come to the point, Captain Drummond?" he remarked affably.
Hugh looked bewildered. "The point, Mr. Peterson? Er—by all manner of means."
Peterson smiled even more affably. "I felt certain that you were a young man of discernment," he remarked, "and I wouldn't like to keep you from your paper a minute longer than necessary."
"Not a bit," cried Hugh. "My time is yours—though I'd very much like to know your real opinion of The Juggernaut for the Chester Cup. It seems to me that he cannot afford to give Sumatra seven pounds on their form up to date."
"Are you interested in gambling?" asked Peterson politely.
"A mild flutter, Mr. Peterson, every now and then," returned Drummond. "Strictly limited stakes."
"If you confine yourself to that you will come to no harm," said Peterson. "It is when the stakes become unlimited that the danger of a crash becomes unlimited too."
"That is what my mother always told me," remarked Hugh. "She even went farther, dear good woman that she was. "Never bet except on a certainty, my boy," was her constant advice, "and then put your shirt on!" I can hear her saying it now, Mr. Peterson, with the golden rays of the setting sun lighting up her sweet face."
Suddenly Peterson leant forward in his chair. "Young man," he remarked, "we've got to understand one another. Last night you butted in on my plans,
