"You see, if Pocket Book pulls the handicap off before I've time to trim
my sails, I lose a lot."
"Much," said Jack, "_for you?_"
"Thirty pounds."
"Whew!" whistled Bourne.
"I get a good allowance from home, Bourne, but I'm bound to say thirty
pounds would cripple me."
"Rather," said Jack, with a gasp.
"Of course, if the worst did come to the worst, I'd have to apply to
home; but there would be, as you might guess, no end of a row about it."
"Then you must hedge," said Jack.
"That is it, exactly. I must back Pocket Book for first place. This is a
sure tip--I can depend upon it."
"Then send to the fellow you bet with, and let him put you on Pocket
Book."
"That is just it, Jack--the bookmaker wouldn't take a bet from me."
"Why ever not?" said Jack, mystified.
"Because I'm a minor--I'm under age."
"Then how do you manage?" said Jack.
"Why, I bet through another man."
"I see," said Jack, for this was but another edition of his own little
adventures. "And that man----"
"Is Raffles," said Acton, quietly.
Jack bounced out of his chair as if he had been stung. "That beast!" he
gasped.
"Raffles?" said Acton, with a slow smile. "I didn't know he was a
beast."
"He is the meanest skunk alive," said Jack. He added fervently, "Acton,
have no dealings with that fellow. He is an abominable sharper."
"Thanks," said Acton, with a slight grimace at Jack's advice. "But, all
the same, I have to deal through Raffles.
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