"What pills?" said Adams disbelievingly.

"Tranquil something he said. I didn't rightly catch the word."

"Tranquillizers."

"Yes, that's it, tranquillizers. Don't hit me any more sir, please sir. It was just that I was so dead scared of Mickey. Don't hit me any more, sir."

"Well I'm damned," Adams began to laugh.

"Well I'm damned. What will they think of next?" He gave the stick back to Humber, and the two of them walked casually away along to the next box.

"Take tranquillizers to help you out of a blue funk. Well, why not?"

Still laughing, they went in to see the next horse.

I got up slowly and brushed the dirt off the seat of my pants. Damn it, I thought miserably, what else could I have done? Why was pride so important, and abandoning it so bitter?

It was more clear than ever that weakness was my only asset. Adams had this fearful kink of seeing any show of spirit as a personal challenge to his ability to crush it. He dominated Humber, and exacted instant obedience from Cass, and they were his allies. If I stood up to him even mildly I would get nothing but a lot of bruises and he would start wondering why I stayed to collect still more. The more tenaciously I stayed, the more incredible he would find it. Hire purchase on the motor-bike wouldn't convince him for long. He was quick. He knew, if he began to think about it, that I had come from October's stables. He must know that October was a Steward and therefore his natural enemy. He would remember Tommy Stapleton. The hyper-sensitivity of the hunted to danger would stir the roots of his hair. He could check and find out from the post office that I did not send money away each week, and discover that the chemist had sold me no tranquillizers. He was in too deep to risk my being a follow-up to Stapleton; and at the very least, once he was suspicious of me, my detecting days would be over.

Whereas if he continued to be sure of my utter spinelessness he wouldn't bother about me, and I could if necessary stay in the yard up to five or six weeks more. And heaven forbid, I thought, that I would have to.

Adams, although it had been instinct with him, not reason, was quite right to be alarmed that it was I and not Jerry who was now looking after Mickey.

In the hours I had spent close to the horse I had come to understand what was really the matter with him, and all my accumulated knowledge about the affected horses, and about all horses in general, had gradually shaken into place. I did by that day know in outline how Adams and Humber had made their winners win.

I knew in outline, but not in detail. A theory, but no proof. For detail and proof I still needed more time, and if the only way I could buy time was to sit on the ground and implore Adams not to beat me, then it had to be done. But it was pretty awful, just the same.

CHAPTER TWELVE

October's reply was unrelenting.

"Six-Ply, according to his present owner, is not going to be entered in any selling races. Does this mean that he will not be doped?

"The answers to your questions are as follows:

"I. The powder is soluble phenobarbitone. '2. The physical characteristics of Chin-Chin are:

bay gelding, white blaze down nose, white sock, off-fore. Kandersteg:

gelding, washy chestnut, three white socks, both fore-legs and near hind. Stariamp: brown gelding, near hind white heel. '3. Blackburn beat Arsenal on November 30th.

"I do not appreciate your flippancy. Does your irresponsibility now extend to the investigation?"

Irresponsibility. Duty. He could really pick his words. I read the descriptions of the horses again. They told me that Stariamp was Mickey. Chin-Chin was Dobbin, one of the two racehorses I did which belonged to

Humber. Kandersteg was a pale shambling creature looked after by Bert, and known in the yard as Flash.

If Blackburn beat Arsenal on November 30th, Jerry had been at Humber's eleven weeks already.

I tore up October's letter and wrote back.

"Six-Ply may now be vulnerable whatever race he runs in, as he is the only shot left in the locker since Old Etonian and Superman both misfired.

"In case I fall on my nut out riding, or get knocked over by a passing car, I think I had better tell you that I have this week realized how the scheme works, even though I am as yet ignorant of most of the details."

I told October that the stimulant Adams and Humber used was in fact adrenalin; and I told him how I believed it was introduced into the blood stream.

"As you can see, there are two prime facts which must be established before Adams and Humber can be prosecuted. I will do my best to finish the job properly, but I can't guarantee it, as the time factor is a nuisance."

Then, because I felt very alone, I added impulsively, jerkily, a postscript.

"Believe me. Please believe me. I did nothing to Patty."

When I had written it, I looked at this cri de coeur in disgust. I am getting as soft as I pretend, I thought. I tore the bottom off the sheet of paper and threw the pitiful words away, and posted my letter in the box.

Thinking it wise actually to buy some tranquillizers in case anyone checked, I stopped at the chemist's and asked for some. The chemist refused to sell me any, as they could only be had on a doctor's prescription. How long would it be, I wondered ruefully, before Adams or Humber discovered this awkward fact.

Jerry was disappointed when I ate my meal in the cafe very fast, and left him alone to finish and walk back from Posset, but I assured him that I had jobs to do. It was high time I took a look at the surrounding countryside.

I rode out of Posset and, stopping the motor-cycle in a lay-by, got out the map over which I had pored intermittently during the week. I had drawn on it with pencil and compasses two concentric circles: the outer circle had a radius of eight miles from Humber's stables, and the inner circle a radius of five miles. If Jud had driven straight there and back when he had gone to fetch Mickey, the place he had fetched him from would lie in the area between the circles.

Some directions from Humber's were unsuitable because of open-cast coal mines and eight miles to the southeast lay the outskirts of the sprawling mining town called Clavering. All round the north and west sides, however, there was little but moorland interspersed with small valleys like the ones in which Humber's stable lay, small fertile pockets in miles and miles of stark windswept heath.

Tellbridge, the village where Adams lived, lay outside the outer circle by two miles, and because of this I did not think Mickey could have been lodged there during his absence from Humber's. But all the same the area on a line from Number's yard to Adams' village seemed the most sensible to take a look at first.

As I did not wish Adams to find me spying out the land round his house, I fastened on my crash helmet, which I had not worn since the trip to Edinburgh, and pulled up over my eyes a large pair of goggles, under which even my sisters wouldn't have recognized me. I didn't, as it happened, see Adams on my travels; but I did see his house, which was a square, cream-coloured Georgian pile with gargoyle heads adorning the gate posts. It was the largest, most imposing building in the tiny group of a church, a shop, two pubs, and a gaggle of cottages which made up Tellbridge.

I talked about Adams to the boy who filled my petrol tank in the Tellbridge garage.

"Mr. Adams? Yes, he bought old Sir Lucas' place three-four years ago.

After the old man died. There weren't no family to keep it on. "

"And Mrs. Adams?" I suggested.

"Blimey, there isn't any Mrs. Adams," he said, laughing and pushing his fair hair out of his eyes with the back of his wrist.