"I think they are well matched, neither of 'em are much to look at."
This was, no doubt, professional jealousy, as Jack cut a far better
figure than Smith in the saddle. The race was run over a mile, and at
the start Tell Tale went off with a clear lead. Round the back of the
course The Spot went up to him, followed by Sandpiper. Jack watched
Random, and knew the horse could race up to the leaders at any time.
Smith wondered why Jack stuck so close to his mount, was he a better
rider than he imagined? At the half distance Random drew up closer with
the leaders, Jack following on Lucky Boy. Two furlongs from the winning
post Tell Tale shot his bolt, then The Spot fell back, and Random dashed
to the front. Now was Jack's time. If Lucky Boy was to win an effort
must be made.
To the surprise of the riders of The Spot and Tell Tale, the outsider,
for such Lucky Boy was, shot past them easily and followed close on the
track of Random.
When he reached the Leger stand, Smith felt certain the race was won,
and eased his mount in order to "canter" home at his leisure. It was a
foolish thing to do. To everyone who watched the race, and knew anything
about the spot, it looked any odds on Random winning a furlong from
home. Had Smith kept him going he could probably have won by
half-a-dozen lengths, but this was just where the jockey failed. Jack
Redland knew every move on the board in riding a race, and when he saw
Smith drop his hands on Random he was sanguine about Lucky Boy's chance.
His mount was going well, although he would never have caught Random had
he been kept at his top.
Before Smith realised the danger he was in Lucky Boy was alongside him,
and the astonished jockey lost further ground through sheer surprise.
Instead of Random holding his own the backers of the favourite saw with
dismay that Lucky Boy was a very likely winner.
Joel Kenley also saw what occurred, and smiled quietly at Smith's folly.
Random, win or lose, ought to have easily beaten Lucky Boy, but a win
was a win, no matter whether it came about through the misfortune of
others.
Jack rode Lucky Boy hard, and although the horse was not thoroughly
wound up he responded to the call and struggled on.
Smith savagely spurred Random, venting his spite on the horse for a
fault that was entirely his own. The severity of the punishment caused
Random to almost leap forward, and for a second or two he seemed likely
to pass Lucky Boy. It was a vain hope on the part of his backers, for
when the winning post was passed Lucky Boy had a couple of lengths to
the good.
It was a miserable fiasco, this was the universal opinion. An odds on
favourite that ought to have won by half-a-dozen lengths was beaten by a
miserable outsider.
Smith's failure was so glaring that he came in for a volley of groans
and hisses, which did not improve his already bad temper. He was
accustomed to cheers, and the ominous sound jarred upon him.
Jack acknowledged he had a very lucky race and did not expect to receive
a warm welcome from the crowd. Racing men, all over the world, however,
are good natured, and they cheered the new comer heartily.
The owner of Random roundly abused Smith in the paddock, and threatened
to call the attention of the Stewards to the spur marks, this, however,
at the jockey's request, he did not do.