"
"'As a nice 'ome at Brixton, keeps a trap; his wife as pretty a woman as
you could wish to lay eyes on. I've seen her with him at Kempton."
"You was up there this morning?"
"Yes."
"It wasn't Bob Barrett that gave you the tip?"
"Not likely." The men laughed, and then Stack said--
"You know Bill Evans? You've seen him here, always wore a blue Melton
jacket and billycock hat; a dark, stout, good-looking fellow; generally
had something to sell, or pawn-tickets that he would part with for a
trifle."
"Yes, I know the fellow. We met him down at Epsom one Derby Day. Sarah
Tucker, a friend of the missis, was dead gone on him."
"Yes, she went to live with him. There was a row, and now, I believe,
they're together again; they was seen out walking. They're friends,
anyhow. Bill has been away all the summer, tramping. A bad lot, but one of
them sort often hears of a good thing."
"So it was from Bill Evans that you heard it."
"Yes, it was from Bill. He has just come up from Eastbourne, where he 'as
been about on the Downs a great deal. I don't know if it was the horses he
was after, but in the course of his proceedings he heard from a shepherd
that Ben Jonson was doing seven hours' walking exercise a day. This seemed
to have fetched Bill a bit. Seven hours a day walking exercise do seem a
bit odd, and being at the same time after one of the servants in the
training stable--as pretty a bit of goods as he ever set eyes on, so Bill
says--he thought he'd make an inquiry or two about all this walking
exercise.
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