The trainer laughed.

"Of course he will. Who put that silly idea into your head?"

"Let's look at him."

They walked down the yard to Barellan's box.

"Bring him out," said Bellshaw.

Hadwin called the head lad and the horse was led out. He limped slightly. His near fore-leg was swollen.

"It doesn't look hopeless," said Bellshaw.

"It isn't. He'll be all right in a couple of days, and he's as fit as he can be. The rest will not do him any harm."

"I haven't seen Leigh yet," said Bellshaw.

"You'll have no difficulty in finding him."

"He'll have to come down handsomely over the sweep money."

"I don't think he will. I shouldn't be surprised if he declines to lay you at all."

"He'll do it. If he doesn't I'll scratch Barellan."

"You dare not. There would be a terrible outcry against you."

"What do I care? He's my horse; I can do as I like with him."

"If you scratch him you'll throw the Cup away."

"You're confident. What makes you so sanguine?"

"I know what he can do, and after Flash's running in the Caulfield Cup it is a good thing," returned the trainer.

"Don't say anything about the lameness being slight," said Bellshaw.

"You're sure to have someone rooting round for information."

"Very well," said Hadwin, who intended doing as he thought fit.

At night Bellshaw went to the Show and saw Glen Leigh ride The Savage.

He admired his skill; he could not help it.

After the performance he went round to see Glen Leigh and had a cool reception.

"I've come about the Sweep," he said. "You've drawn my horse."

"He's lame," answered Glen. "Just my luck. Will he run?"

"It all depends."

"Depends whether he's got over it by Tuesday?" said Glen.

"It depends on you."

"What have I got to do with it?"

"A good deal. You've drawn Barellan in the Sweep, and I expect a cut out of it."

"Do you, and how much do you expect?"

"Half of what you draw. That's fair."

Glen laughed as he said, "You don't want much. You'd better have the lot."

"It's a fair proposition," said Bellshaw.

"I drew Barellan and I shall stick to anything I get out of it," Glen replied.

"You mean you will give me nothing out of the Sweep?"

"Not a farthing," snapped Glen.

"Then do you know what I shall do?"

"No."

"I shall scratch him."

"A nice sportsmanlike proceeding that would be," said Glen.

"I don't run my horse for your benefit, or the benefit of the public."

"So I always understood," answered Glen.

"Consider it over. If you do not make me a fair offer by Sat.u.r.day I'll strike him out on Monday."

"I don't think you will," said Glen, in a mildly irritating way.

"But I shall."

"Again I repeat I don't think you will."

"Why not?"

"Because I can advance some weighty reasons against your doing so."

"To which I shall not listen," said Bellshaw.