"
"Then the sheet is at 'ot as the bloody fire. Will yer leave off?"
"What! a Demon like you afraid of a little touch of 'eat; wouldn't 'ave
believed it unless I 'ad 'eard it with my own ears," said Mr. Leopold.
"Come, now, do yer want to ride the crack at Goodwood or do yer not? If
you do, remain quiet, and let us finish taking off the last couple of
pounds."
"It is the last couple of pounds that takes it out of one; the first lot
comes off jest like butter," said the boy, rolling out of the way of the
pan. "I know what it will be; I shall be so weak that I shall just ride a
stinking bad race."
Mr. Leopold and Mr. Swindles exchanged glances. It was clear they thought
that there was something in the last words of the fainting Demon, and the
pan was withdrawn. But when the boy was got into the scale again it was
found that he was not yet nearly the right weight, and the Gaffer ordered
another effort to be made. The Demon pleaded that his feet were sore, but
he was sent off to Portslade in charge of the redoubtable William.
And as the last pounds came off the Demon's little carcass Mr. Leopold's
face resumed a more tranquil expression. It began to be whispered that
instead of hedging any part of his money he would stand it all out, and
one day a market gardener brought up word that he had seen Mr.
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