now the United States if they revolted. This would be cheek-by-jowl with
a bet that an heir would be born to one new-married pair before another
pair. The very last bet made on the day I opened the book was that Queen
Victoria would make Lord Salisbury a duke, that a certain gentleman known
as S. S. could find his own door in St. James's Square, blindfold, from
the club, and that Corsair would win the Derby.

"For two long hours I sat forgetful of everything around me, while I read
that record--to me the most interesting the world could show. Every line
was part of the history of the country, a part of the history of many
lives, and it was all part of the ritual of the temple of the great god
Chance. I was fascinated, lost in a land of wonders. Men came and went,
but silently. At last there entered a gentleman whose picture I had so
often seen in the papers--a man as well known in the sporting world as
was Chamberlain in the political world. He was dressed spectacularly,
but his face oozed good-nature, though his eyes were like bright bits of
coal. He bred horses, he raced this, he backed that, he laid against the
other; he was one of the greatest plungers, one of the biggest figures on
the turf. He had been a kind of god to me--a god in a grey frock-coat,
with a grey top-hat and field-glasses slung over his shoulder; or in a
hunting-suit of the most picturesque kind--great pockets in a well-
fitting coat, splendid striped waistcoat. Well, there, I only mention
this because it played so big a part in bringing me to Askatoon.

"He came up to the table where I sat in the room with the beautiful
Adam's fireplace and the ceiling like an architrave of Valhalla, and
said, 'Do you mind--for one minute?' and he reached out a hand for the
book.

"I made way for him, and I suppose admiration showed in my eyes, because