me."

William hesitated, and then said he'd take ten half-sovereigns to one
against Silver Braid.

"Ten half-sovereigns to one?" said old Watkins.

William murmured "Yes," and Joey booked the bet.

Mr. Leopold's business demanded more consideration. The fat betting man
and the scarecrow little butler walked aside and talked, both apparently
indifferent to the impatience of a number of small customers; sometimes
Joey called in his shrill cracked voice if he might lay ten half-crowns to
one, or five shillings to one, as the case might be. Watkins would then
raise his eyes from Mr. Leopold's face and nod or shake his head, or
perhaps would sign with his fingers what odds he was prepared to lay. With
no one else would Watkins talk so lengthily, showing so much deference.
Mr. Leopold had the knack of investing all he did with an air of mystery,
and the deepest interest was evinced in this conversation. At last, as if
dismissing matters of first importance, the two men approached William,
and he heard Watkins pressing Mr. Leopold to lay off some of that fifty
pounds.

"I'll take twelve to one--twenty-four pounds to two. Shall I book it?"

Mr. Leopold shook his head, and, smiling enigmatically, said he must be
getting back. William was much impressed, and congratulated himself on his
courage in taking the ten half-sovereigns to one. Mr. Leopold knew a thing
or two; he had been talking to the Gaffer that morning, and if it hadn't
been all right he would have laid off some of the money.