"
"We went to the Blue Cow on wet days. Billiards, beer, and 'baccy, Mr.
Acting, was the true bill there. What's the law on those fancy articles?"
"A thrashing for first course, and _et ceteras_ which you wouldn't
understand."
"Well, he's earned 'em. We couldn't do any betting on the horses, since
the Lincolnshire Handicap is not in sight yet, but he fluttered a little
on the Sporting Club matches; and he was lucky--more than ordinary."
"You didn't wing him there, then?"
"Nothing to speak of. He may have dropped half a sov. altogether, but I
doubt it."
"Then, Raffles, you're a fool. Do you think I brought you down here to be
moral instructor to young Bourne, you grey old badger? Couldn't you bag
an innocent of sixteen or so? Besides, what the deuce do you mean by
tipping me the wink as Bourne and I used to get on our 'bikes'? You
always did it, and I thought you were winding up the youngster hand over
hand."
"Them winks," said Raffles, diplomatically, "was meant to show that I was
moving--moving slow, but sure. You've observed, Mr. Acting, yourself, as
'ow the young shaver had a head on 'is shoulders."
"Yes, but I didn't bargain for yours being off your shoulders."
"Well, what with bunnies, cartridges, and the Blue Cow, and the other
extras, he is about cleaned out now."
"Cleaned out!" said Acton, with intense irritation. "That's not what I
wanted. I told you distinctly that I must have him five pounds deep at
the least.
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