Kitabı oku: «The Second String», sayfa 14

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 mass 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."

"We have no time to talk now," said Jack, smiling. "There is a lot to be done. Come and see the horses saddled, Captain."

"Whose horses?"

"Our's – mine and Barry's."

"Is he here?"

"No, worse luck."

"What races are they in?"

"The Sydney Cup," replied Jack.

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"Well, this is a go, and which of 'em is going to win? Do you ride?"

Jack and the trainer laughed heartily, and the former explained the situation to Joel, who was thanking his lucky star that the "Falcon" had arrived in time for him to be present.

Lucky Boy was saddled first, then Black Boy, and quite a crowd gathered round the pair, for Joel Kenley's horses always attracted attention, his stable was generally dangerous.

Black Boy was quiet, but his stable mate was restless, and lashed out freely.

"Which do you like best?" asked Jack.

"I'm not much of a judge, but I prefer this one," replied the Captain, pointing to Jack's horse.

"The other one is the better favourite, but I rather fancy mine will beat him."

"What does the trainer think?"

"He's in a bit of a fix. Lucky Boy won the trial, and yet we all seem to fancy the other one."

"Then he carries my money," said Job. "What odds can I get?"

"About twenty to one," replied Jack.

"That beats Topsy Turvy," said Job. "I'll have a fiver on."

Jack laughed, and advised him to do his speculating at once, and he would wait for him.

The jockeys came up and mounted, and by this time the interest in the race had risen to fever heat.

Mentone, a Melbourne trained horse, is favourite, and the opinion was that he had been leniently treated, in fact, was the pick of the handicap. A strong contingent of visitors from the Victorian capital had come over to back him, and were confident of success.

Escort, Tramp, Hiram, and the Dancer, were all more or less fancied.

Captain Seagrave had no difficulty in obtaining a hundred to five about Black Boy, a wager he was more than satisfied with.

"If it pans out as well as that race you rode in at Lewes it will be grand," he said. "I wish Sam Slack had come with me."

"Is Sam in the 'Falcon' with you?" asked Jack.

"Yes, and so is Mac and most of the other boys. They'll be glad to see you again."

The horses were now moving out on to the track, and Job caught sight of the colours on Black Boy.

"He's running in Sir Lester's colours," said Job, in some surprise.

"And it is the same jacket I wore when I won on Topsy Turvy," said Jack. "Sir Lester gave it me."

"Then I'm hanged if I don't have another bit on," said Job, and this time he only secured a hundred to seven.

Jack laughed at his enthusiasm, and said —

"You had better have a pound or two on Lucky Boy as a saver, they will both do their best to win."

"No more," said Job, "I'll stand or fall by the old colours."

The stands were packed, and the people stood on the lawn, and leaned over the railings in dense masses.

Mentone was cheered as he galloped to the starting post, and the horse looked a perfect picture. Black Boy moved sluggishly, but Lucky Boy went past at a great pace, pulling his jockey out of the saddle, eager for the race.

"Too flash," said Job; "Give me the other fellow, he's steady and sure."

"I daresay you are right," replied Jack.

There was no more time for conversation, as the horses were quickly despatched on their journey, and the bright green jacket of Escort was easily distinguishable in front. The horse had a light weight, and a clever lad rode him. With a clean lead of several lengths, he brought the field along, his nearest attendants being Hiram, Tramp, and Maximus. Bunched together in the centre were the favourite, and Kenley's pair with the remainder of the field, well up.

As they passed the stand, Escort led at a great pace, almost overstriding himself, and his tiny jockey had no easy task to hold him.

There was some bumping as they swept round the bend and past Oxenham's, but nothing was seriously interfered with.

Along the track, Escort still led, but the others were gradually drawing up, and it was easy to see that by the time the sheds were reached, he would be caught.

Jack watched the black jacket and orange sleeves closely and also the cherry and white on Lucky Boy, who seemed to be going in splendid form, and fully bearing out his trial. So far Barry's horse clearly outpaced Black Boy, and Jack commenced to think he would win. He would have been almost as pleased to see Barry's colours successful as his own.

Job made no remark. He stood watching the race with a stolid face, and no one would have thought he was in a fever of excitement. A good race agitated him far more than a storm at sea.

They were nearing the turn for home, and Mentone was rapidly working his way round on the outside. The favourite seemed to have no difficulty in passing the leaders, and as they entered the straight, he was close up to Tramp, who held the lead.

Lucky Boy shot his bolt soon after they headed for home, and his collapse was a surprise to Joel Kenley, who fancied he would be sure to stay it out.

Bricky Smiles was watching the race from the trainer's stand, and when he saw Lucky Boy was beaten, he was glad his modest investment was on his favourite.

As they neared the first stand, Mentone looked to have the race well in hand. He was going easily and his jockey had made no call upon him; he had no intention of doing so if it could be avoided, for the horse had a decided objection to being pressed. His instructions were to get to the front as soon as they entered the straight and make the best of his way home, no matter whether it was a long run in or otherwise.

"Don't hit him if you can help it," said the trainer, "but, of course, if it comes to a pinch you must."

Will Sleath saw the favourite forging ahead, and also noticed Lucky Boy fall back.

"It all depends on me," he thought; "Andy has no chance."

Black Boy was a horse that could gallop at a steady pace almost any distance, but he lacked that sharp burst of speed which comes in so handy at the finish. Will Sleath knew his mount well, and had no hesitation in making the most of him in any part of the race. The rider of Mentone had been deceived as to the pace they were going, because Black Boy had been galloping alongside him, and he knew the horse was a "plodder." When he made his run round the home turn with Mentone, it took a good deal out of the favourite, more than he knew of. Sleath sent Black Boy along at his top, and together with Hiram and the Dancer, drew level with Tramp, who was soon beaten.

Mentone was sailing along comfortably in front, his backers being on excellent terms with themselves, and already the cheering which heralds the anticipated victory of a favourite were heard.

"It's all over," said Jack. "We're beaten, Job."

The Captain made no remark, he was too intent upon watching the black and orange jacket as it came creeping along.

Slowly but surely Black Boy made up his ground, and Hiram stuck close to him, yet it seemed almost impossible they would get on terms with the leader.

Will Sleath looked ahead and saw the judge's box very near: if only Black Boy could put on a spurt he had no doubt what would be the result. This was unfortunately what Black Boy could not do, for he was already at his top, and his jockey did not ask him to go faster.

Mentone was tiring, and his rider was aware of it, but he thought the commanding lead he held would carry him safely through.

It was a case of the favourite stopping and Black Boy plodding on. The exciting question was would Mentone fall back sufficiently to allow of Jack's horse getting up.

The crowd commenced to realise what was taking place, and there was a dead silence.

Jack felt his pulses tingle, and his blood seemed on fire. Being an accomplished rider, he knew exactly how matters stood, and he hoped almost against hope that Black Boy would just get up in time.

The black and orange was very near now, not more than a length away, and Mentone's jockey realising the danger raised his whip. In response the horse made a feeble effort which was not sustained, and a terrific shout burst from the crowd as Black Boy got on level terms.

For a second the pair struggled together, then Black Boy outstayed the favourite, and the black and orange jacket of Sir Lester Dyke was carried first past the post in a memorable Sydney Cup.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH
THE NEW CLAIMS

The victory of Black Boy was not very well received, although no blame was attached to either owner or trainer. The horse's previous running showed he had very little chance of carrying off such a race as the Sydney Cup.

Jack Redland won a large sum, and half of this was to go to Barry Tuxford. Job Seagrave landed a couple of hundred pounds, and was jubilant.

The stewards could not let the previous running of Black Boy pass unchallenged, and called Abe Moss before them to give an explanation of the horse's performances during the time he owned him. Abe made some blundering excuses, which only half satisfied the stewards, and wound up by saying he had backed Lucky Boy in the Cup, as he did not consider the winner good enough. This was perfectly correct, and probably thinking he had been sufficiently punished by losing his money, the stewards gave him a severe caution, and warned him to be careful how he acted in the future.

Jack was naturally anxious to hear from Barry Tuxford, but there was nothing for it but to wait patiently until he communicated with him.

He lost no time in paying a visit to the "Falcon" and renewing his acquaintance with his old friends of the "Golden Land." Sam Slack and Rufus Macdonald gave him a hearty welcome, and the latter said the skipper was a "canny mon" to land the "Falcon" in port in time to back Black Boy in the Cup. "It's a pity we were not there," he said.

Jack dined with them on board, and they spent several merry evenings together, until the time came for the "Falcon" to commence her homeward voyage.

Captain Seagrave willingly took charge of several parcels Jack wished to send to Winifred and Sir Lester, he also entrusted to Job a splendid photograph of Black Boy, with Sleath in the saddle, and the black and orange colours up.

When the "Falcon" left the harbour Jack felt more lonely than he had ever done since he landed in Australia, and it was with a feeling of intense relief he received a letter from Barry Tuxford some weeks after Black Boy had won the Cup.

Barry wrote in high spirits, he had nothing but good news to tell. His man had not exaggerated in the least, and he reckoned their claims would be about the richest in Western Australia.

"The country, as you may expect, is infernal," wrote Barry, "not fit for a civilised white man to live in, but where gold is to be found there do the people flock together, and it was not long before they were on my track after the first gold went on to the Great Tom township, and the Warden had granted our claims. You have never been in a gold rush and I hope you never will. It is hell let loose, every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost. All the worst features of the human race come to the surface; if a man has any of the leven of unrighteousness in him it's bound to ooze out in a big lump. I have seen some very choice collections of blackguards in my time but I never set eyes on such a crew as we have had up here at Bundoola Creek. They are the scum of the earth, and although there are some good fellows amongst them, the majority ought to be in gaol. You know me fairly well, and that I am not easily staggered, but I tell you candidly when I looked round on the crew that rushed the Creek I felt a trifle uncomfortable. We had secured the best claims, and the fellows knew it, and this raised their ire. They saw there was gold on our pitches to be had almost for the asking, and they wanted some of it. I was equally determined they should not have it. I took with me, from the township, a dozen men I could depend upon, and to make doubly sure of them I gave them a hint where to peg out their ground. This gave them an interest in the concern and as they were all well armed the rogues and vagabonds would have had a rough time of it had they ventured to interfere with us. Things have settled down a bit now, and as there is plenty for all I see no reason why the peace should not be kept.

"As for the claims, I have called one the 'Redland,' and the other the 'Barry Tuxford,' so we stand a good chance of becoming famous all the world over, for sure as fate these will be big concerns. I have just heard Black Boy won the Sydney Cup, and you cannot think how delighted I am. For a middle aged man I acted in a most absurd way. I danced around the camp like a wild man, and my pals thought the heat had affected my brain. When I explained what had occurred they understood, they are all good sports. What a triumph, Jack, and what an awful scoundrel Abe Moss must be. I don't know how my horse ran, and don't much care, now you won. If Joel Kenley thinks Lucky Boy will win a race let him keep him in training, if not, sell him for what he will bring. Thank him for all he has done for us, and give him a bonus of a hundred pounds as a slight token of my regard. There is no secrecy now about my movements, and you may tell anyone you like where I am, and what has happened, providing they do not already know.

"Come back to Fremantle as soon as you feel inclined, as I have a lot to say to you about our future prospects. I advise you to leave Black Boy with Kenley, or sell him if you think it best. I shall be glad to see you again; you cannot understand how I miss you. Have had no news of the pearling fleet, but expect they will be back soon. By the way, the only bit of inferior news I have is that old Silas Filey has gone on a trip to Shark's Bay. What the deuce takes the old fellow to that outlandish place I do not know, but he has taken the black pearl with him or else hidden it somewhere. Wait until he comes back and if he does not give it up, I'll throttle the life out of him. Another item of news. I saw that black thief, Kylis, in Fremantle, and he is in funds. Where he got the money from the Lord knows; but he had the cheek to ask me to assist him in fitting out a schooner. He said he had over a hundred pounds, and would I advance him the rest. As we were not near the harbour, or the river, I had no opportunity of pitching him into the water, but he evidently understood the meaning of my language and cleared off with a rapidity seldom seen in the black race. You need not trouble about the pearl, Silas is sure to have it safe, and I will get it when he returns."

Jack Redland went to Joel Kenley's, taking the letter with him, and read it to the trainer.

"Now you will understand why I could not tell you where he had gone," said Jack, as he finished Barry's epistle.

"You were perfectly right to keep everything to yourself," replied Joel. "It is very good of him to send me a hundred pounds."

"You deserve that and more, and I hope you will not refuse if I offer you another hundred to match it."

"I shall not refuse," replied Joel, "for I know the spirit in which it is offered."

"Will you take charge of the horses while I am away?" asked Jack. "I leave for Fremantle by the next boat."

"Willingly; they are both worth keeping in training, and will pay their way."

"You must run them when you like," said Jack. "Please use them as though they were your own, and I will leave a couple of hundred pounds to your credit to back them with."

"I will do my best," said Joel, who appreciated the confidence placed in him.

Bricky came in for his share of the plums, and found himself in possession of a far larger sum than he had been accustomed to handle of late years. Fred Manns, the head lad, had no cause to grumble, nor had either of the jockeys who rode "the two boys."

"I told you he was a good sort," said Bricky.

"He is," replied Fred Manns, "one of the very best."

It was now public property in Sydney that Barry Tuxford had left suddenly to claim the best part of the Bundoola Creek Mines, and Jack Redland was congratulated on all sides at being the partner of such a successful man.

"I am not his partner," said Jack, "at least I have put no money into these claims."

"He's called one claim after you, and another after himself, so there can be no doubt about it," was the reply.

The voyage to Fremantle was tedious to Jack, owing to his impatience to meet Barry, and hear the news from his own lips. At last the steamer entered the harbour and he at once went ashore and straight on to Perth.

Barry was not there, but was expected down in the course of the week, so Jack had to pass the time as best he could. He went back to Fremantle in the hope that he might come across Silas Filey, and had not been long there when he met the black, Kylis. The fellow grinned when he saw him, and Jack felt inclined to knock him down. He smothered his anger and beckoned to him. Kylis sauntered across the road and asked what he wanted.

"Tell me how you stole the black pearl out of my waist-belt," said Jack, quickly, and holding him by the arm.

The black cowed under his angry gaze, and said in a low voice that he would do as he wished, providing no harm came to him.

"No one shall touch you, tell me everything," said Jack.

Kylis told the story of the robbery and of the sale of the pearl to Amos Hooker, also how Hooker parted with it for a hundred pounds to one of Silas Filey's men. He did not say anything about Hooker's death.

All this was interesting to Jack, who wondered at the black's cunning.

"You are a dangerous fellow, Kylis," he said. "Mind and keep out of trouble in future, here's a sovereign for you."

The black took it with many expressions of gratitude, and then walked rapidly away.

At last Barry Tuxford returned to Perth, and after a hearty greeting between them Jack saw he was much altered and that he had suffered a good deal in health. He was not the same lively Barry Tuxford who had left him in Sydney, and Jack was troubled.

"You are ill, Barry," he said, anxiously. "You have overworked yourself, you must rest and have a doctor to see you at once."

"I'm all right, Jack," he said, faintly, "a bit knocked up, that's all; I shall soon get over it, but I've had a hard job, a precious hard job."

Barry Tuxford was seriously ill, and when the doctor saw him he said that complete rest and change was what he required.

"He has a constitution of iron," said the doctor, "or he would have knocked up weeks ago. I warned him of the risk he was running the last time he was here, but when a man has the gold fever on him the fear of death will not stop him. He is your friend, Mr. Redland. From what he has told me I know you have more influence with him than anyone, you must make him give all this up for a time. Take him to England for a trip, the voyage will do him more good than all the medicine I can give him. Once you get him safely out to sea he cannot give you the slip, but he'll do it here if you do not watch him closely. I never met such a man before, he's all activity, and his courage is marvellous."

"Is he in any danger?" asked Jack.

"No, not at present, but if this sort of work goes on I will not be answerable for his health, or life. Do as I advise you, get him away from it all. Make him go, he has plenty of money and it will be of no use to him if he loses his health."

"I will do my best," said Jack. "He has promised to go to England with me when I return, and although I did not mean to go back for a year or two, I will tell him I have decided to take the trip as soon as possible."

"That's splendid," said the doctor. "If Barry has given you his promise he will keep it; I never knew him break his word."