The Argosy — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

Why Did Charlie Hardup Go to Ascot P 70 ‘‘'There’s a chance for you, Charlie,” shouted Pickles. ‘A most desirable investment for an enterprising capitalist. Shall he book bie” “Book what?” lazily asked Hardup, who, buried in his own reflections, had not heard a word of what was going on. ‘© A-~ ‘monkey’ to a hundred against Ramilies,” gravely repeated Croesus. “Is it a bet?” “T don’t care. Yes, if you like,” replied Charlie, hardly conscious of what he was saying. “Very good,” said Captain Dacre, methodically noting the wager in his betting-book, while the backer of M. Legrand’s horse, rising languidly from his seat, nodded carelessly to his entertainers, and left the tent. He did not, however, return to the enclosure, but elcana a ticket for the grand- Stand; edged his way through the pushing and _ jostling multitude on the slope until he found himself, he scarcely :knew how, in the midst of the “‘ring.” ‘There all was animation and excitement. The bell for saddling had rung a minute or two before, and cries of ‘ T’ll take odds” resounded with deafening monotony in every possible in- flexion of the human voice. Presently a movement of the crowd towards the railings announced that the two competitors—for the long-talked- of match was now to be decided—were on their way to the starting post ; and after a few moments of breathless expectation, the pair were seen breasting the hill, one slightly in advance of the other, and increasing the distance between them at every stride. From that point the race was virtually over, and from the exulting roar of the bookmakers and the blank faces of the disappointed backers, Charlie, who had been completely shut out from a view of the struggle, learnt that the favourite had been beaten, and that he himself was thereby a gainer to the tune of five hundred pounds. This unhoped for windfall, although it did not altogether console him for the morning’s mischance, nevertheless tended materially to raise his spirits; and, while returning to town by an early train, he began to reflect that he might possibly have acted more wisely in placing his affections in a quarter where he instinctively felt they would not have been unwelcome. Was it too late to repair the error? He pondered over the matter that evening at his club, and for many subsequent evenings; and on a certain afternoon, having apparently made up his mind on the subject, proceeded in a hansom to a house in Tyburnia, where Miss Jessie Stapleton and her aunt were then residing. What passed between them may be guessed from a conversation which took place some six months later at a breakfast-table in Arlington Street, at the head of which Madame was engaged in skimming the fashionable intelligence in the Morning Post, while Monsieur, who had just mastered the contents of a letter, was staring at it with a strangely bewildered air. ECORnNIClOOKKS (CO)