I'm glad you'll have a good lesson." "Thanks," said Dig, and went out to try to sell Blazer for three stamps.
But no one would look at him, and Dig finally crushed the paper into his waistcoat-pocket in disgust, and wished he had his stamps safe there instead.
A fortnight later, just as he and Arthur were marching down proudly to the cricket-field, in order to take part in a great match--the first of the season .-- between an eleven of Ainger's and an eleven of Barnworth's, he was struck all of a heap by the amazing announcement, conveyed by Simson, that Blazer had won the Derby! Dig turned pale at the news, and convulsively dug his hand into his pocket to see if he had his paper safe.
"Not really ?" he exclaimed.
"Yes, he has! Roaring Tommy was nowhere.

Jolly lucky for me I sold my ticket to Tilbury for eight-and-six! I wish I'd bought yours for threepence when you asked me." Dig laughed hysterically.
"Then I've got the ten-and-six ?" he asked.
"Rather." Dig made two duck's eggs, and missed every ball that came in his way that afternoon, and was abused and hooted all round the field.

What cared he?
He had Blazer burning a hole in his pocket, and ten-and-six in postage-stamps waiting for him in Mills's study.

As soon as he could decently quit the scene of his inglorious exploits, he bolted off to claim his stakes.

Mills was not at home, so he took a seat and waited for him, glancing round the room carefully, in case the stamps should be lying out for him somewhere.