looking at the horse.

CHAPTER V

ROBIN HOOD'S SPEED

Among the group looking at Robin Hood was Harry Morby. Alan introduced him to Ella, he thought her very attractive.

"He's a beauty," said Ella, as she patted the horse's neck.

"And he'll win the Plate," said the trainer.

"Your team looks like playing a strong part this week," said Harry.

"I hope so," replied Alan, who took the trainer on one side.

"So you're an Australian?" said Harry.

"Yes, I hail from Sydney. I was educated here, at the same school as
Miss Berkeley. She has invited me to stay with her at The Forest."

"That's jolly for you, she's one of the right sort, everybody likes her."

"Including Mr. Chesney?"

Harry laughed as he replied:

"We, that is Alan's male friends, think it will be a match in time.
They are great friends and much together."

"It is not to be wondered at, she is a beautiful woman," said Ella.

"Very; it is strange she has not married."

"Perhaps she is waiting until Mr. Chesney asks her."

"Pity he can't make up his mind," said Harry, smiling.

"You think he'll win, Fred?" said Alan to his trainer.

"Haven't much doubt about it; here's Tommy, ask him," was the reply.

Tommy Colley was Alan's jockey. He came up wearing the brown jacket, with blue sleeves and cap—the Chesney colors. He was one of the old school, rode with longer stirrups than the modern jockeys, although he had in a measure conformed to the crouching seat. Alan's friends wondered why he stuck to Tommy, some of them considered he was getting past it, but Alan had a knack of keeping to old hands who had done him good service. In business this caused many a split with the manager, Duncan Fraser.

"Like his chance, Tommy?" asked Alan, looking at Robin.

"Very much. I rode him in his gallop, he ought to win; and that filly of yours is a hummer," said the jockey enthusiastically.

"And The Duke?"

"Good, but Evelyn and Robin Hood are better."

"Is this your jockey?" asked Ella.

"Yes; Tommy, this is Miss Hallam, an Australian, a friend of Miss
Berkeley's."

"They bring some good horses from Australia," said Tommy.

"And probably my father will have two or three of the best when he arrives," she said.

There was little time to spare and they returned to the stand, Harry
Morby with them.

Having seen Ella to the box Alan went with Harry to the ring. The second race was over and the numbers had been called out for the Epsom Plate; the bookmakers were already shouting the odds.

"Craker's horse is a hot pot," said Harry, "there'll be danger in that quarter. When Peet puts his money down he generally has good reason for it."

Peet Craker was a big bookmaker, owner of horses, a heavy bettor on his own animals; he had an enormous business on the course and off.

The horse in question was Bittern, a champion over seven furlongs, he could not quite stay the mile, and he was conceding ten pounds to Robin Hood.

Alan knew Craker well, the bookmaker often did business with him and for him. Sometimes he went to Trent Park. He was a man of good education, there was no coarseness about him.

"Your horse is favorite, Peet," said Alan.

"He has a big chance if he can beat yours," was the reply.

"Ten pounds is a lot to give Robin Hood over seven furlongs," said Alan.

"My fellow's very well."

"So is mine."

"I'll save a monkey with you," said the bookmaker.

"All right, I'm agreeable," was Alan's reply.

Peet Craker looked at him as he walked away.

"Wonder if Robin Hood is as good as Skane thinks," he muttered. "If he beats Bittern he's a good 'un. I'll stand mine, but I'm glad we're saving a monkey."

Alan put money on freely when he fancied his horses, but he seldom bet on other people's. He backed Robin Hood to win a large sum. Having finished his business in the ring he returned to Evelyn's box with Harry Morby.

The horses got away as they entered; a black jacket, white sash and cap, in front.

"Peet's luck's in, that's Bittern," said Alan; "a good start makes all the difference over this distance."

The field came down the slope at a great pace. There were fifteen horses; in the center was Robin Hood, he seemed to be hemmed in.

Tommy was savage. Not only had Robin Hood been kicked at the post, but also badly bumped and knocked out of his stride when they were going. He used forcible language to the offending jockey, who retaliated in kind.

Bittern liked to make the running, and his rider, Will Gunner, knew his mount well. He had not the slightest doubt about winning; everything was in the horse's favor. Peet Craker looked through his glasses, saw his colors a couple of lengths in front, and lowered them, quite satisfied.

At the foot of the slope Bittern still led, followed by Lantern, Topsy, and Retreat; Robin Hood seemed out of it.

"Rotten luck, Alan," said Harry. "He was knocked about at the start."

"Was he? I didn't see it," he replied.

"He's coming now!" said Ella excitedly.

"So he is!" said Eve. "He has a chance yet."

Alan smiled as he said:

"It's remote. He's a greater horse than I think if he can win."

Tommy Colley's hopes revived. Robin Hood was going great guns, his speed was tremendous. In a second or two he ran into third place, then going on he came behind Bittern, and Will Gunner scented danger. The two jockeys were old rivals, and great friends. Gunner's style was the crouch seat for all it was worth; he often chaffed Tommy about his long legs. The different attitudes of the two were apparent as they joined issue at the distance.

Robin Hood never flinched under the whip, and sometimes required a reminder that a little extra exertion was required. Tommy gave him a couple of sharp cuts, and the brown and blue drew level with the black and white.

Both jockeys were hard at it. Bittern was game, but the ten pounds he was giving away began to tell.

In Evelyn's box there was much excitement, the finish being watched with breathless interest. Neck and neck the pair raced, and the struggle was continued up to the winning-post. Nobody knew which won until Robin Hood's number went up.

There followed congratulations all round. The party had won, there was much jubilation.

In the evening Alan came round to Regent's House and found bridge in full swing; he cared little for cards. Evelyn, who was playing, greeted him with a smile; so did Ella, who sat at the same table as her hostess.

Later on there was music. Ella had a fine voice, she sang well, there was evidence of careful training. Evelyn played as few amateurs play, and as an accompanist she was hard to equal.

"Thanks so much," said Ella. "You play splendidly."

"And your singing is lovely," answered Eve.

Ella received the compliments modestly. She knew she sang well and there was no hesitation when asked. She