HALF A HEAD
The matches were to take place at Newmarket on the first two days.
They had been arranged so that Alan Chesney might be present; leave was
granted for five days, and he hurried home from the front. Since the
desperate cavalry fighting with the Uhlans he had been promoted to the
general staff in a special capacity kept a profound secret to all
except those immediately concerned, and had already done excellent
service.
He arrived at Trent Park late in the evening, and at once went to The
Forest where Eve Berkeley anxiously awaited him. Bernard Hallam and
Ella were there but discreetly kept out of the way until they met.
Alan was bronzed and looked fit; Eve was proud of him. They had much
to talk over, and for an hour were left to themselves. No mention was
made of their marriage; it was understood it was to take place as soon
as possible.
When Bernard Hallam and Alan were alone the matches between their
horses were the subject of conversation.
"You've not seen 'em," said Bernard, alluding to Rainstorm and
Southerly Buster. "You'll be a bit surprised. I shall give you a good
run; it will probably result in winning one each."
Alan smiled; he had frequently heard from his trainer and was confident
of success.
"Skane tells me your horses are better than he expected, but he thinks
I shall win," he said.
"And my man Wrench says I shall," was the reply.
"There's a lot of interest in them, and the wagering will be close,"
said Alan.
"The odds will probably be on your horses; that's only natural. Would
you care to have a wager as well as the stake?"
"I'm agreeable if you wish," said Alan.
"Then suppose we say an even five hundred on each race?" said Hallam.
"That will suit me," was Alan's reply.
Ella greeted Alan without any embarrassment. She had at first been
touched by his attention to her, but directly she was certain he and
Eve were in love she relinquished any hopes she might have had. Alan
did not conceal his pleasure at meeting her, and Eve felt a slight
touch of jealousy which she quickly banished as a foolish fancy. They
were good friends, why should she not be pleased it was so?
They went to Newmarket by motor early in the morning and drove direct
to the course. Alan was anxious to see the four horses; they were in
the paddock, although The Duke and Southerly Buster were only due to
run the mile that day.
The Australians attracted a crowd and pleased the public; they were a
good-looking pair, Rainstorm being the favorite.
Alan was much impressed. He recognized his horses would have to be at
their best to beat them; this Fred Skane assured him was the case. He
went to look at The Duke and Bandmaster, and his hopes of winning rose.
They were in splendid trim; the trainer had taken a lot of trouble with
them. Eve was naturally anxious for Alan to win. Ella was quite
convinced her father's horses would put up a good race; she had a
couple of small wagers on with her friends.
Mr. Hallam found no difficulty in getting odds of six to four against
Southerly Buster in the ring; the bookmakers were disposed to field
against the Australian representatives. The match was regarded as an
important event and placed third on the card. When the horses came out
there was much cheering. It was a sporting affair in every sense of
the word. There were plenty of Australians in khaki, eager to show
their faith in Southerly Buster. Many of them were wounded, some known
to Bernard Hallam and Ella.
The course was the straight mile, and there is no better galloping
ground. Southerly Buster cantered down with Bradley in the saddle; the
Baron's jockey fancied his mount, he had ridden him in several gallops.
Tommy Colley was, as usual, on Alan's horse. It seemed an equal match
both as regards the riders and horses. Naturally there was prejudice
in favor of The Duke, odds of five to four being laid on him, then six
to four was freely laid.
"Going to beat you, Ben," said Tommy at the post.
"You may, but you'll not find it easy; mine's a real good horse," was
the reply.
They sprang off together, at top speed in a few strides, and it was
evident the mile would be covered in fast time. Southerly Buster was a
clinker over the distance, holding the Australian record for a mile, a
generous horse, always willing to do his best. The Duke had a temper,
but Colley knew his peculiarities and humored him. The horse had a bad
habit; getting off well, he generally slackened speed after going a
couple of furlongs. He did so on this occasion and Southerly Buster
gained a length or more, much to the consternation of backers of Alan's
horse. At the end of four furlongs the Australian had increased his
lead and still The Duke held back. Colley was anxious. The Duke had a
tremendous turn of speed, but nearly three lengths was a lot to make up
in half a mile.
The black, orange hoops and cap were conspicuous; Bernard Hallam
fancied they would be as successful here as in Australia.
Jack Wrench had a habit of giving a long and prolonged whoop when he
felt sure of a horse's victory. He proclaimed his confidence in
Southerly Buster in a manner causing people near to laugh heartily.
Hallam heard the well-known cry and it increased his hopes of winning.
Alan was disappointed so far at The Duke's form. He knew Colley was
not quite as good as Bradley in a match, although his judgment was
excellent, hardly ever at fault.
They were two furlongs from the winning-post and Tommy wondered when
The Duke would put on full pressure; it was high time if he were to
win. He dare not hit him, not at present; a few strides from the post
it was generally effective because The Duke had no time to think things
over and sulk. Just as Colley was beginning to despair and becoming
desperate he felt The Duke bound under him, and in a few seconds the
whole aspect of the race changed. So sudden was the move that Alan
gasped. Eve clutched his arm in her excitement.
"By Jove, he's coming and no mistake!" exclaimed Alan.
"Splendid!" said Eve. "What wonderful speed--but will he catch him?"
"Whoop, whoop, whoop!" came from Jack Wrench--three sharp, piercing
cries; but there seemed to be a note of alarm in the last, it died away
suddenly.
The Duke was now almost at Southerly Buster's quarters, and Bradley was
on the lookout for squalls; the advantage he possessed was greatly in
his favor at this critical point. Colley thrilled with excitement;
after the first part of the race the change was delightful. There was
no doubt about The Duke's doing his best now. A tremendous cheer came
from the crowd as he drew almost level with Southerly Buster.
They were not many lengths from the winning-post; it was a terrific
set-to. There was nothing between the pair; they were evenly matched.
The Australian was a wonderful horse. How the colonials cheered!
There was nothing wrong with their lungs, whatever there might be with
their limbs. It was a glorious sight to watch these two horses,
representatives of all that was best in the sport on two sides of the
world, struggling for supremacy. There was the blue blood of the
English thoroughbred in both, although reared and trained under
different conditions. Cheering and counter-cheering echoed over the
heath as The Duke and Southerly Buster struggled on. Whichever won,
the honors were almost equal; this is as it ought to be on a match of
this kind.
The whips were out; down they came, and still the horses were locked
together. The Duke tossed his head. Colley thought it was all up,
that he had given in; then to his surprise the horse's resentment took
another turn and he made a savage effort to get his head in front.
The din was tremendous, and the excitement great; there was not likely
to be a better race than this in the four days.
Bradley rode splendidly, so did Colley, and both horses put in all they
knew.
They were just at the post when The Duke made his final stride. Had he
won? Nobody knew, not even the jockeys; each thought he had just got
it. The judge was certain; he alone could decide, and he did not
hesitate.
There was a moment of silent suspense, then the hurricane of cheers as
number one, The Duke's number, went up. Alan's horse had won by half a
head in the last stride and Southerly Buster was only just vanquished.
"Honor's divided," was Mr. Hallam's comment when he met Alan in the
paddock.
"They are," he replied; "there is nothing between them."
"Only half a head," answered Mr. Hallam, smiling, "but it makes all the
difference."
"I thought I'd just done it," said Bradley.
"So did I," said Colley. "It was the last stride; they were dead level
next moment."
"It was worth coming home for," said Alan enthusiastically. "There'll
be some fun at the front to-night. There were several wagers on. They
are all great sports."
"Will they hear the result?" asked Eve.
"Oh, yes; you've no idea how news gets round; it's remarkable where it
comes from--Lord only knows," said Alan.
There was much speculation in Newmarket during the evening as to the
next day's match. Southerly Buster had run such a race that it was
considered Rainstorm, who was the better horse, had a splendid chance
of beating Bandmaster. Many people doubted the Hunt Cup winner's
capability to stay two miles. Mr. Hallam was so impressed with
Southerly Buster's performance that he laid several big wagers
Rainstorm would win. Alan was not oversanguine, although Fred Skane
declared Bandmaster's task was easier than The Duke's.
Baron Childs invited Alan, Evelyn Berkeley, and the Hallams to stay
with him for the night; he also had other friends there. During the
evening there was some wagering on the next day's match and opinions
were about equally divided.
The Baron was particularly attentive to Eve. Alan smiled as he said to
himself:
"He does not know we are engaged. Eve is mine; there's no chance for
anybody else."
Alan walked to Skane's after dinner and had a long talk with him over
the running of his horses.
"Think we'd better put Robin Hood over the sticks," he said. "I've
found out he's a good fencer; there'll be some meetings under National
Hunt rules during the winter and next spring."
Alan was pleased at the suggestion; he loved a ride over the sticks or
steeple-chase course, and Robin Hood was just the mount for him.