The sporting chance

								

where he had accumulated a great fortune and had become a recognised
power in Wall Street.  He had also gained some reputation as a
traveller--an explorer upon scientific lines of little-known parts of
the world--and he had but recently returned from an expedition of the
sort, an expedition organised and financed by himself, which had,
however, only partially achieved its object.
"Armitage will punish the champagne before the day's through," he
continued in a voice that was agreeably free from nasal twang.  "Look
at him now!"  Captain Armitage had swung himself down from the coach
and could be seen in interested converse with the butler, who had
emerged from its interior.  "He's a curious sort of fellow, is the
captain.  Had a big fortune once, but did it all in on the turf.
Kind-hearted fellows like Rory still keep in with him for the sake of
old times, and because of the girl, who's a character, too, in her
way.  They live in a tumble-down cottage near John Treves's training
stables at Partinborough, in Cambridgeshire.  It was there I first
came across them, for I've a house of my own in the neighbourhood.
The girl"--he nodded his head in the direction of Rada--"has a poor
time of it, and just runs wild.  Armitage brings her to London now
and then and tries to make a dash, showing up at the big race
meetings and putting on a swagger, although heaven alone knows in
what wretched lodgings he hangs out!  He spends most of the time at
his club, and leaves Rada to look after herself.  He manages somehow
to keep a horse or two in training at Treves's, but he's a sponge,
and that's why I warn you two young fellows about him."
It was very clear that Anthony Royce had no liking for the bibulous
captain: nor had Mostyn Clithero, even upon his shorter acquaintance,
and that with good reason.
Mostyn knew nothing about racing; he was a very innocent in all
matters connected with the turf.  Captain Armitage had made this
discovery very early in the day--when the party had met at Sir
Roderick's house in Eaton Square, in fact--and he had proceeded to
amuse himself at the young man's expense, a fact of which Mostyn had
subsequently become uneasily aware.  There was one matter especially
which weighed upon his mind, and now, feeling himself with friends,
he proceeded to unburden himself.
"I think," he said, "that Captain Armitage has been making fun of me.
Is it true that Hipponous won the Waterloo Cup?"
There remained no doubt in Mostyn's mind after he had put that
question, though his two companions let him down as gently as they
could; even, as far as possible, refraining from laughter as they
gave the necessary explanation.
Mostyn flushed indignantly.  "It was too bad of him," he cried; "too
bad.  He came up and talked so amiably that I quite believed all he
said.  Of course, he saw at once that I was a fool.  He asked me if I
could remember what price Hipponous had started at for the Waterloo