The Rider in Khaki Part 33

Alan was keenly interested in the result. If Bandmaster beat Rainstorm he would be delightfully surprised. He smiled as he pictured Fred Skane crowing over the doubters and p.r.o.nouncing Bandmaster the best horse in the land.

Eve was anxious. She wanted Alan to win both matches; at the same time she was glad Mr. Hallam's horses showed such good form. She was quite willing to accept his excuse that they would have done better had they been thoroughly acclimatized. There was, however, little time to think over these things; all attention was concentrated on the race, which was now at the most exciting part, and the tumult at its height. The brown jacket with the blue sleeves held the lead as they came up the rise, but the black and orange hoops were close on to them, and Rainstorm's head was at Bandmaster's girth.

It was a punishing finish, but neither horse gave way--a splendid display of dogged courage and endurance, it appealed to all that was best in thousands of people witnessing it.

Bradley roused himself for a final effort; few jockeys had his strength at the end of a severe course; he had s.n.a.t.c.hed races out of the fire by sheer power of endurance.

Tommy had beaten him yesterday; he was almost savagely determined not to be placed second to-day. Every nerve was strained, all his resources, and they were many, were called upon. He rode with his head as well as his legs, and judged every little thing in favor of his mount.

If Rainstorm had a bit of brilliant dash in him all would be well, but had he? From the way the horse had traveled Ben doubted but nevertheless determined to test him to the utmost. He felt the horse roll a trifle and held him firm. What caused this? He was certain Rainstorm was not beaten.

Then Bandmaster did the same thing, but it was more of a lurch and Colley gasped in surprise. Both jockeys were straining to the utmost but had not drawn their whips. Bradley was the first to raise his arm; Colley saw it and immediately followed suit. The whips came down simultaneously, the result was equal and the horses kept their positions. Again the whips fell and this time it was Bandmaster made the better response.

It was not a cruel race; these reminders were not vicious, so sensitive were the wonderfully bred horses that they answered to the least call.

Alan's horse gained half a length and there was a terrific cheer; the brown and blue was well in front, the black and orange hoops fell back.

A look of disappointment stole over Bernard Hallam's face. Rainstorm was his favorite; he would have given much to see him win. Two miles was his best distance. What a horse Bandmaster must be to beat him! A Hunt Cup winner giving Rainstorm the go-by over two miles--it was hardly credible; but there was the hard fact.

"Ah!"

Mr. Hallam exclaimed loudly.

"Hurrah!"

He shouted at the top of his voice.

"Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"

The cry came again in three loud, victorious cheers.

And what caused it? Why this sudden change from despondency to joyful hope of victory?

Rainstorm, after a prodigious effort on Bradley's part, drew level with Bandmaster, got his head in front, kept it there, and the judge's box was only a few yards away. A wonderful bit of riding, a great and gallant effort on the part of a good horse.

Tommy almost yelled as he drove Bandmaster along; to be defeated after all, no, he couldn't stand that. He never rode a better race and he had a good horse under him.

The last effort made by Rainstorm seemed likely to carry him first past the post, and Bernard Hallam was sure of winning. Bandmaster, however, would not be denied, the horse divined there was danger of losing; being full of courage he resented this and put forth his strength and speed to stave off defeat. How he did it Colley could not tell, but by some almost magical power he drew level with Rainstorm again and the desperate struggle continued.

The best thoroughbred never knows when he is beaten; so it was in the case of Bandmaster, who hung on to his opponent with bulldog tenacity.

Bernard Hallam hardly believed it possible that Alan's horse had again got on terms with Rainstorm. The angle was deceiving and his colors still appeared to be in front; so thought hundreds of others.

For a brief moment the eyes of the jockeys met; each saw grim determination there, then they looked ahead and the judge's box loomed up clear and close.

The finish was thrilling. As they flashed past the post the question was asked, "What's won?" and n.o.body could tell.

"Close as The Duke's race," said one.

"Gone one better; Rainstorm won," said one of the Australians.

"Don't think so; that was a terrific run of Bandmaster's," replied another.

The numbers seemed a long time going up, then number one was slipped in; before the roar of Bandmaster's supporters died away number two appeared alongside it. The result was a dead heat--a mighty struggle--a dead heat over two miles. The owners were not likely to run it off, so which was the better horse was not settled and there would be much food for argument.

CHAPTER XXI

THE RAID

"We shall have to make another match to settle the question," said Mr.

Hallam.

"I'm willing," laughed Alan, "but give me time. I must go back at once; there's some tough work to be done before long."

"When you like," replied Mr. Hallam. "I am not going back to Australia at present. I have no wish to be sent to the bottom of the sea."

Alan said good-bye to Eve at The Forest. Before leaving for London he saw Duncan Fraser. Everything was going well, no cause for anxiety, and the manager spoke hopefully of the future.

Alan was surprised when he heard of Jane Thrush's marriage and rated Tom soundly for "throwing her away" on such a fellow.

Tom remonstrated in a sullen way, saying he thought it a good match for his daughter.

"You'll find out it is not," said Alan sharply. "The man is probably in the pay of the enemy, and will be laid by the heels before long; then she will come back to you and you'll be glad to have her."

Alan suspected Tom had been bribed by Meason; he knew his fondness for money but did not question him on this subject.

Tom Thrush thought over what Alan said. It caused him some uneasiness.

He had a great respect for him and his opinions and knew he would not make an a.s.sertion without good grounds for doing so.

Carl Meason and his wife arrived at a small resort on the East Coast and stayed at an hotel. She wondered why he came here; there was not much to see, it was dull. Once she had been to Scarboro' and enjoyed the brief stay, but H---- was a different place.

Meason left her alone a good deal. The excuse was he had work to do; he did not explain what it was.

After a week in Meason's company Jane already began to repent her hurried marriage. Carl was rough; some of the veneer wore off rapidly.

He gave her money and told her to amuse herself, but there was little chance of that in such a place.

"Why don't you take me with you? I'd like to see the country," said Jane.

"Can't be done, my dear; not yet, at least. Wait a week or two and I may be able to do so," he replied.

"What are you so very busy about?" she asked.

He declined to gratify her curiosity and said a wife ought to trust her husband; to which she responded that he didn't seem to trust her.

"Perhaps you'd rather go back to your father?" he sneered.

"You are unkind; you know I would not, but I think you might be with me more; it's lonely here," she said with tears in her eyes.