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Joel Kenley laughed as he replied--
"Then you are sure he will win, and it is only a question as to how far the others will be beaten. What makes you think he will beat Lucky Boy?"
"I don't know, a kind of presentiment, one of those things a fellow can't understand. I'm sure he is a better horse than the other fellow."
Joel Kenley seldom talked with his lads, but he knew Bricky had a wide experience and had ridden and looked after all sorts of horses, so he spoke to him with more freedom than usual.
"What about the trial? Lucky Boy won that easily."
"That's true, too easily I thought, he'd never do it again. It reminded me of a trial I once rode for Mr. Mason, at Eagle Farm, Brisbane."
"What was there curious about it?" asked Joel.
"There were two horses in his stable, same as it is here, and one of them won a trial with any amount to spare. They backed him for a heap of money, put the other horse in to make the running, which he did, for he was never caught, and won the race almost as easily as his stable mate did the trial. I rode the favourite, and I also rode him in the trial.
In the race he would not try a yard and there was a regular row about it. Most people blamed me, but Mr. Mason stood by me and said he'd have another trial. We had, and dash me if my fellow didn't win again easily, and I rode him. Well, about a month after we took him to Gympie, backed him heavily, and he ran nearly last. The other horse, that he beat in the trial, we took to Rockhampton, and beggar me if he didn't win easily, fairly smothering the Gympie winner. What do you make of that?"
"One horse must have been a rogue in a race, but would do his best at home," said Joel.
"Quite so, and I have an idea that will be the case here."
"You may be right, but we have no occasion to think Lucky Boy lacks courage, he ran a good race at Rosehill."
Bricky shook his head and smiled as he said--
"I can't give any reasons, sir, but to-morrow my bit for the Cup goes on this fellow."
"It will be a surprise for a lot of people if he wins."
"It's good for 'em to be surprised sometimes," said Bricky.
Jack Redland called at the trainer's the same night, and Joel told him what Bricky had said.
"It's curious," said Jack, "but I cannot get it out of my head about Black Boy, I feel sure he will run well and beat Barry's horse."
"Have you heard from Mr. Tuxford?" asked the trainer.
"No, he has hardly had time to write."
"He must be a long way from here?"
"He is," replied Jack, smiling, and the trainer said--
"It is no use trying to trap you."
"Not a bit," said Jack.
"He has left everything in our hands," said the trainer, "but it would be far more satisfactory if he were here, or even if we could communicate with him."
"I am afraid that also is impossible. A telegram would not reach him, besides what is there to wire about?"
"Nothing, when you come to think of it," answered Joel.
"We must give orders for both horses to be ridden out, and then we shall discover which is really the better of the pair. I confess the solution of that question interests me as much as the result of the race itself."
"And so it does me, and I am not at all sure, Mr. Redland, that the second string will not win," replied the trainer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH
_THE SECOND STRING_
It was a brilliant scene on the beautiful Randwick course on Cup Day, and Jack Redland, as he looked round, thought it compared more than favourably with anything of the kind he had seen in the old country. He knew it was to be a day of excitement, and he heartily wished he had some friend to share it with him. Sometimes our desires are gratified in a strangely sudden manner, and so it chanced to be with him.
As he looked at the moving ma.s.s of people in the ring at the rear of the Stewards' Stand, he saw a burly figure that seemed strangely familiar.
At first he did not recognise it, but as the man moved nearer, he gave an exclamation of delighted surprise, for it was his old friend Captain Seagrave, who in some extraordinary way had turned up at this opportune moment.
Jack darted down the steps of the stand and hustled his way through the crowd, not stopping to answer numerous heated inquiries as to where he was "pushing people."
He caught Captain Seagrave by the arm, and the astonished sailor gasped as he looked at him.
"Of all the blessed experiences I ever had, this beats all," said Job, as he gave his hand a hearty shake. "Where on earth have you sprung from?"
"I ought to ask that question," replied Jack, laughing. "What brings you here?"
"Come under the trees and sit down, and I'll tell you."
They went towards a shady seat, and then Job Seagrave said--
"It does me good to see you. I've a heap of things to tell you. I saw Sir Lester and his daughter last trip and they have sent no end of messages, especially the young lady. Lucky dog, that's what you are."
Jack forgot all about the races for the time being, so absorbed was he in listening to the Captain.
"I'll leave all the good things they said until later on," went on Job.
"I only arrived here late last night. I've got a new craft, a real tip top steamer. I've chucked over the old firm, they treated me badly. I'm skipper of the "Falcon," and a right down good steamer she is. I never expected to see you here. Knowing the Sydney Cup was run for to-day, I thought I'd come and see it. Lucky we arrived just in time. I don't know a blessed horse that is running in the race."
These remarks brought Jack's thoughts back to the business in hand. They had been talking for some time, and Joel Kenley was hunting all over the paddock for Jack. At last he spotted him and went hurriedly across.
Jack saw him coming and went to meet him.
"I have been looking for you this half hour," said the trainer. "It is almost time for saddling up, will you come and see the horses put to rights?"
Jack beckoned Captain Seagrave, and introduced him to the trainer, remarking that he was the brother of Caleb Kenley, of Lewes.
"Proud to meet you," said Job, "I know your brother, saw him when I was in England last voyage."