The Argosy — page 322: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Between Two Stools. 305 “ Floored!” he muttered as he lit a cigar, ‘‘ regularly up a tree! Frank was right in recommending me to trust to the horse. It’s my only chance now. Might as well have been on the course after all— wish I had! Half-past three, by Jove!” he added, consulting his watch, ‘the news must have arrived by this time. Push along, cabby !” “Cabby” was equal to the occasion, and a few minutes later landed his fare at the club door. There stood the Major, smoking his cheroot, his eyes twinkling maliciously as he recognised the new comer. ‘“Who’s won?” shouted the Honourable Adolphus, darting out of the vehicle. ‘Lightfoot by a neck,” curtly replied de Mogyns, looking his questioner full in the face to see how he took it; ‘‘ Achilles second, Dorchester third.” Sharpset stared at him for a moment, as if unable to realise what he heard. ‘‘And Brother to Merrylegs,” he gasped, ‘‘where was he?” ‘‘ Brother to Merrylegs,” slowly repeated the Major, inwardly en- joying his rival’s mortification. ‘‘ Nowhere.” ** Not scratched P ” “Pretty nearly the same thing as far as his dackers (with a satirical emphasis on the word) are concerned,” responded his tormentor. “Brother to Merrylegs was /e/t at the post !” VOL, XXIX, at MICLOOO SS (CO) im