THE NEW GAME 47
propitiatingly when he saw that the Outlaws had stopped to look at him.
I know him," said Ginger importantly, "I'm a friend of his. I've often gone in to play with him there, when there was no one about."
There was silence. The Outlaws stood gazing at the dog and then at each other, while the great idea took shape. Ginger at last broke the silence and voiced it.
" I votes we jus'ójus' borrow him for the race. I think they're all out. We can have him back again before they come back."
Without waiting for their answer Ginger went up
to the dog and unchained it. It joined the party
with jubilation, leaping down the road with them and
fraternising exultantly with its fellow greyhound. ******
They had finished all their preparations. The feast was spread out in the space reserved for " refresh≠ments." The Outlaws had determined to charge their patrons a penny per head and then let them fight for what they could get.
The patrons were now beginning to arrive. Douglas with his little note-book was doing brisk business.
He had reduced the ceremonial of betting to its simplest possible form. He had written on one page of his little note-book " For Jumble," and on the opposite page " Against Jumble." The news spread like wildfire among the patrons of the race.
" I say, if you go up to Douglas an' say, ' I bet you a penny Jumble doesn't win,' they'll give you a penny if he doesn't."
The patrons all did this. It was not that they did not admire Jumble, but a stranger at first sight often commands more respect than someone we have known all our lives, and there was something vaguely sporting-looking about the fox-terrier.