Bertie, may a cousin’s curse—Come on, Claude, old thing.”
The more I studied the scheme, the better it looked.
“How about it, Jeeves?” I said.
Jeeves smiled gently, and drifted out.
“Jeeves has no sporting blood,” said Bingo.
“Well, I have. I’m coming into this. Claude’s quite right. It’s like finding money by the wayside.”
“Good man!” said Bingo. “Now I can see daylight. Say I have a tenner on Heppenstall, and cop; that’ll give me a bit in hand to back Pink Pill with in the two o’clock at Gatwick the week after next: cop on that, put the pile on Muskrat for the one-thirty at Lewes, and there I am with a nice little sum to take to Alexandra Park on September the tenth, when I’ve got a tip straight from the stable.”
It sounded like a bit out of Smiles’s Self-Help .
“And then,” said young Bingo, “I’ll be in a position to go to my uncle and beard him in his lair somewhat. He’s quite a bit of a snob, you know, and when he hears that I’m going to marry the daughter of an earl—”
“I say, old man,” I couldn’t help saying, “aren’t you looking ahead rather far?”
“Oh, that’s all right. It’s true nothing’s actually settled yet, but she practically told me the other day she was fond of me.”
“What!”
“Well, she said that the