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"What, fit and well as he was when he won the Great Ebor, and with six-seven on his back? He'd walk away with it." "You don't think any of the three-year-olds would have a chance with him? A Derby winner with seven stone on his back might beat him." "Yes, but nothing short of that. Even then old Ben would make a race of it. A nailing good horse once.
Lord Arthur Skelmerton, a very well-known figure in London society and in racing circles, had rented one of the fine houses which overlook the racecourse. He had entered Peppercorn, by St. Armand Notre Dame, for the Great Ebor Handicap. Peppercorn was the winner of the Newmarket, and his chances for the Ebor were considered a practical certainty.
For Mark Ebor, F.R.S., etc., etc., was that unique combination hardly ever met with in actual life, a man of science and a mystic. As the first, his name stood in the gallery of the great, and as the second but there came the mystery!
Mark Ebor was none of these. He held himself under fine control, facing silently and without complaint the terrible facts he honestly believed himself to have been unfortunate enough to discover. Even to his intimate friend and assistant, Dr. Laidlaw, he vouchsafed no word of true explanation or lament. He went straight forward to the end, knowing well that the end was not very far away.
"It appears that on the evening after the Ebor, Terry and Lavender were in the bar of the Black Swan Hotel having drinks. "'I had done pretty well over Peppercorn's fiasco, he explained, 'but poor old Lavender was very much down in the dumps; he had held only a few very small bets against the favourite, and the rest of the day had been a poor one with him.
"I may see them?" he asked at last, in a low voice he hardly recognized as his own. "You will let me know their message?" Professor Ebor kept his eyes fixedly upon his assistant's face as he answered, with a smile that was more like the grin of death than a living human smile. "When I am gone," he whispered; "when I have passed away. Then you shall find them and read the translation I have made.
On one morning, the Great Cloudland Company, of which he was chairman, gave their approval of twenty-six bills, which he immediately introduced into parliament. Next day, the Ebor and North Cloudland sanctioned six bills under his advice, and affirmed deeds and agreements which affected all the principal railway projects in Lancashire and Yorkshire.
Professor Mark Ebor, the scientist, led a double life, and the only persons who knew it were his assistant, Dr. Laidlaw, and his publishers. But a double life need not always be a bad one, and, as Dr.
The luck must turn, and I have some splendid information about the Great Ebor and the Yorkshire Stakes. Stack knows of a horse or two that's being kept for Sandown. Unfortunately there is not much doing in August. I must try to make up the money: it's a matter of life and death."
"If you was to do such a thing I should never forgive you. I could never think the same of you." "All right, old girl, don't be frightened. I've been thinking too much about them horses, and am a bit depressed. I daresay it will come out all right. I think that Mahomet is sure to win the Great Ebor, don't you?" "I don't think there's no better judge than yourself.
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