V.
THE TIPSTER
AN IMPOSSIBLE STORY
I.
"I'VE done it again! This is really rum!"
Mr. Gill tilted his hat towards the back of his head. Philip Major had come upon him in the Strand, standing in the middle of the pavement, staring at the fifth edition of the Evening Glimmer.
"That's what it is—rum! I can't help thinking, you know, that there must be something wrong."
"What's the matter?"
"Well," Mr. Gill put his hand up to his mouth: he coughed. "I've placed the first three horses for the Chichester Handicap. Here they are, large as life." Mr. Gill pointed to a paragraph in the paper. "Mary Anne, 1; The Duke, 2; and Coriolanus, 3; just as I sent 'em to my clients!"
Mr. Major laughed.
"That's all right. I thought that you professed to send three winners, for seven-and-sixpence, isn't it?"
"But you don't understand. Yesterday I done the same. I placed the first three in the Billings-
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