“In that case,” he said, “those bets, you know—I’m afraid you lose your money, dear old boy. It’s a pity you didn’t put it on S.P. I always think S.P. ’s the only safe way.”
I gave him one look. Not a bit of good, of course.
“And they talk about the Purity of the Turf!” I said. And I meant it to sting, by Jove!
Jeeves received the news bravely, but I think the man was a bit rattled beneath the surface.
“An ingenious young gentleman, Mr. Steggles, sir.”
“A bally swindler, you mean.”
“Perhaps that would be a more exact description. However, these things will happen on the Turf, and it is useless to complain.”
“I wish I had your sunny disposition, Jeeves!”
Jeeves bowed.
“We now rely, then, it would seem, sir, almost entirely on Mrs. Penworthy. Should she justify Mr. Little’s encomiums and show real class in the Mothers’ Sack Race, our gains will just balance our losses.”
“Yes; but that’s not much consolation when you’ve been looking forward to a big win.”
“It is just possible that we may still find ourselves on the right side of the ledger after all, sir. Before Mr. Little left, I persuaded him to invest a small sum for the syndicate of which you were kind enough to make me a member, sir, on the Girls’ Egg and Spoon Race.”
“On Sarah Mills?”