The Sweep Winner Part 31

"Good man," said Tom. "There'll be some sport. You'll have your work cut out."

Glen smiled confidently.

CHAPTER XXIII

BEATEN

It was Sat.u.r.day night, and Glen Leigh had sent no word to Bellshaw about the sweep money.

Bellshaw waited impatiently in his private room at the hotel, fretting and fuming.

"If he thinks I don't mean what I said he's mistaken," he muttered.

"I'll scratch him right enough. He can't have a very big chance. He limped a bit this morning. He'll have to run in bandages if he starts; that doesn't look very well for a Cup horse. I'm not going to give him all the spoil--not me."

It was ten o'clock and still no word from Glen Leigh. Bellshaw thought he would come round after the show, but he did not.

"I'll wait until Sunday night," thought Bellshaw. "I can go round on Monday morning and scratch him."

Ivor Hadwin went to the show on Sat.u.r.day night and saw Glen Leigh. He was very anxious about what Bellshaw would do over Barellan, and tried his utmost to persuade Glen to see him about it.

"He'll not scratch him," said Glen. "He dare not."

"You don't know him. He'd do it just to spite you."

"Then he's a fool to throw away a chance of winning the Melbourne Cup out of sheer spite."

"Will you call on him to-morrow morning?" asked the trainer.

"What's the good? There'll only be a scene," replied Glen.

"Think of me, Leigh, the anxiety I've had over the horse for weeks, all the trouble, and now the job of getting him to the post after his lameness. It's heartbreaking," said Hadwin.

Glen relented. For the trainer's sake he would see Bellshaw and try and persuade him not to scratch Barellan, but he was firmly resolved not to yield any sweep money.

"Very well, I'll see him. I think I have a persuasive way, and I'll try it on him," answered Glen.

The trainer brightened visibly.

"You're a good 'un. I'll not forget it," he said.

About eleven o'clock on Sunday morning Glen Leigh was announced.

Bellshaw smiled when he heard the name of his visitor.

"Show him up," he said, and added to himself, "I thought he'd never be such an a.s.s as to throw a chance away."

Glen entered the room. The only greeting he gave was a nod. He took a chair without being asked, and threw his hat on the table, then leaned back and looked at Bellshaw.

"So you've come to your senses," said Bellshaw. "It's lucky for you the office was closed on Sat.u.r.day night, or my orders to scratch Barellan would have gone in. There's the letter," and he threw it across the table to him.

Much to Bellshaw's surprise, which quickly changed to anger, Glen Leigh tore it up and let the pieces flutter on the table.

"d.a.m.n your impertinence. What do you mean by that?" roared Bellshaw.

A tap at the door. A waiter put in his head.

"Did you call, sir?"

"No--get out," foamed the angry man.

Glen smiled exasperatingly.

"What do you mean by it?" asked Bellshaw again.

"It's a silly useless letter, because you will not scratch Barellan,"

answered Glen.

Bellshaw simmered down. Leigh had come to make terms; they must be liberal.

"Useless because you are going to make a proposal," said Bellshaw.

"I have a proposal to make?"

"How much will you give me out of the sweep?"

"Nothing," was the unexpected answer.

Bellshaw flared up again, swore roundly, talked fast and furiously, all to no purpose. Leigh sat immovable, lit a cigar and waited until he was exhausted.

"Would you like to hear my proposition?" asked Glen calmly.

"Not if it doesn't refer to sweep money."

"You'd better, for your own sake. It's rather important to you," said Glen.

"Nothing you have to say, outside the matter at issue, can interest me,"

returned Bellshaw.

Glen smiled at him. It was the most irritating thing he could do.

"I shall sit here until you listen to what I have to say," he said.

His manner was determined. He looked stubborn, and was more than a match for Craig Bellshaw, as far as strength went. He got up and locked the door, putting the key in his pocket.

"What I have to say you would not like anyone to hear. Besides I don't want you to bolt out of the room."