TEARAWAY AND OTHERS
There was no occasion for Picton to travel to Bridlington. Captain Ben
arrived next day and was very pleased to see him.
"He's much better," said Ben; "making a wonderful recovery. He's quite
sane, remembers everything, but his health is terribly shattered and
a long rest on the _Sea-mew_ will do him a world of good. He has no
desire to come to Haverton, or to leave the yacht; he thinks he is
safer where he is, and he is right. There was no need to caution him
to be careful, he knows what it means for all of us if there is the
slightest suspicion about the _Sea-mew_. Glovey will attend to him, so
will Mac, and the crew to a man have sworn to keep everything secret.
Don't worry yourself about it, Picton; it will do no good; and I will
return in a week or so to see how he is going on."
"Mrs. Yeoman knows," said Picton.
"She can be trusted, and it is better she should; it will prepare her
for his coming," said Ben.
It was no use worrying, as Ben said, and as Brant Blackett was anxious
to put the horses through the mill, several trials took place on the
moor.
Tearaway proved herself a veritable flyer; she easily disposed of the
lot pitted against her, and fully bore out the trainer's opinion of
her, that she was as fast as the wind. She was a beautiful mare, black
as coal, not a white speck on her, and stood sixteen hands high. No
fault could be found with her; she was sound in her wind and limb,
possessed terrific speed and was also a stayer. Blackett idolized her;
he was desperately cut up that she had not been entered in any of the
classic events, with the exception of the St. Leger. How she came to
be entered in the great Doncaster race was peculiar. Her breeder, a
Yorkshire squire, always entered his youngsters freely in the classic
races. Somehow Tearaway had been overlooked until the last moment and
a telegram was sent to enter the filly by King Charles--Far Away, in
the St. Leger only. This was Tearaway, who was named afterward.
Picton bought her at the sales at Doncaster for five hundred guineas,
at which price she was a bargain.
She ran only once as a two-year-old because Blackett saw she was
growing fast and required time; to hurry her thus early in her career
might, he said, ruin her.
Picton was immensely proud of her, and desirous of bringing off
a great coup by winning the St. Leger. It had been the Admiral's
ambition to win the Doncaster event, and more than once he had been
within an ace of doing so. Every Yorkshire owner of horses, on
any pretensions to a large scale, is anxious to win the Leger, the
greatest race in the North.
Tearaway was practically an unknown quantity and Picton decided she
should not run in public before September. With some fillies this
would have been a risky policy to pursue, but Tearaway was so quiet
and docile that there was no fear of her being frightened by a crowd,
no matter how large, or by any amount of noise. The trainer agreed
with this plan: Blackett was quite as anxious to win a Leger as his
master. He was a Yorkshireman, and patriotism was strong within him.
Brant Blackett was intended by his father for an auctioneer and had
been sent to a local firm in Whitby. He hated office work and was
always slipping away and going out to sea on one of the fishing boats.
The firm declined to have anything to do with him, and in some way or
other he drifted to Middleham and took a situation in a racing stable.
He was small, weighed under eight stone, and soon learned to ride
well. He never rode in public but was considered as good as the best
of them in getting the strength of a trial. He was recommended to the
Admiral, when he wanted a private trainer, and came to Haverton, where
he had been for many years. He was much attached to the family, and
the place, and, like the rest of them, he was cut up over Hector
Woodridge's trial. He had won many races during the time he had
been at Haverton, but vowed no such flier had been in his hands as
Tearaway. He was fond of the breed, and fond of the mare, and she
repaid his kindness by being as obedient as a child.
"She's the sweetest-tempered filly I ever handled," he said. "Her
temper's just lovely. She never flares up, or misbehaves; a perfect
lady, that's what she is."
Everybody who saw the filly agreed with him, and in the Haverton
district Tearaway was regarded as a good thing for the St. Leger.
"It's a long way off to September," said Picton as he and Ben sat on
their hacks and looked at her after a morning gallop. She had been
two miles at a fast pace and pulled up without the slightest sign of
blowing. Her glorious black coat shone like satin in the sunlight; she
tossed her head proudly, looking round with intelligent eyes that took
in all her surroundings.
"No need to hurry her," said the trainer; "and there's nothing will
happen to her, I'm sure. A sounder mare never stepped."
"We have hardly anything good enough to try her," said Picton.
"That's a fact," said Blackett. "It takes something out of the common
to extend her."
There were a dozen horses at work, some cantering, others having spins
over five and six furlongs.
As Picton rode back with Ben and the trainer he said: "What with one
thing and another I forgot to tell you Mr. Langford is sending The
Rascal here and he says I am at liberty to do what I like with him.
He's a real good 'chaser, the same I won the double on at Torquay. It
would be rather a joke if we won the St. Leger with Tearaway, and the
National with The Rascal. I wonder if a trainer ever accomplished that
feat?" said Picton, smiling.
"Never heard of it," said Blackett; "but I don't see why it should not
be done. We've a pretty good schooling ground here."
"The Rascal is one of the best horses I have ridden over fences. He's
a bit queer-tempered, but once he settles down to his work you can
depend upon him to do his best," said Picton.
"Then, if he'll do that, he must be a good horse no matter what his
temper may be," said the trainer.
During the week The Rascal arrived at Haverton and the white-faced
chestnut created a favorable impression.
Picton found the same difficulty in mounting him, but once in the
saddle all went well, and the way the horse took the stiffish fences
on the Haverton schooling ground convinced the trainer there was a
good race in him; but whether The Rascal was up to National form was
another matter.
Picton wrote to Dick Langford, stating The Rascal had arrived safely,
and saying he wished he, Dick, had come with him.
When Dick received this letter he said to his sister: "This is as good
as an invitation. I'll avail myself of it and go down to Haverton for
a few days. You don't mind, Rita?"
"Indeed, no; I think Mr. Woodridge is a very good friend," she
replied.
"He is, and he'll make a very decent sort of brother-in-law," said
Dick.
"Don't be silly," said Rita, her cheeks glowing.
"Is it silly? Not a bit of it--you know it's not. Picton's fond of
you, and you're fond of him--that ends the matter. I wonder he hasn't
asked you before."
"Asked what?"
"To be his wife."
Rita laughed as she said: "I think you spoilt an opportunity when you
called to us in the garden that night. You remember?"
"Yes, I remember, and I also recollect I thought what a fool I was at
the time," he said.
Picton was glad when Dick Langford arrived at Haverton; it gave Ben a
chance to go back to the _Sea-mew_ for a few days.
Dick always enjoyed a visit here, and small wonder, for such a lovely
place could not fail to attract. He was fond of horses and Brant
Blackett liked him.
"I hate showing a fellow round who pretends he knows a heap and knows
nothing," said the trainer. "With Mr. Langford it's different; he's a
very fair judge, and he's willing to learn; he's never cocksure about
anything. He makes some shrewd remarks too, and he's clever--yes, I
like Mr. Langford; there's grit in him."
Mrs. Yeoman gave Dick the hall-mark of her approval.
"He's a cheerful soul, not given to moping, and he's easily pleased;
he always cheers Mr. Picton up, and he wants it at times--more than
ever now," she thought.
It had come as a shock to her when Picton told her Hector had escaped
and was on board the _Sea-mew_. She wondered if he were safe there.
Picton told her Hector would be so changed when he left the yacht that
no one would recognize him, and that he would change his name. Hector
Woodridge would be dead to the world.
"Unless he can prove his innocence," he said.
"Oh, I wish that could be done!" she said. "Some day I think it will
come to pass. He's innocent, I'm sure of it. Do you know what I think,
Mr. Picton?"
"No; what is it?"
"I believe Mrs. Elroy killed her husband."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Picton. "What makes you think that?"
"I read every scrap of evidence at the trial. I am almost certain Mr.
Hector was shielding her; he's just the sort."
"If your surmise is correct his innocence will never come to light,
because he will never betray her," said Picton.
"Perhaps not, but she can't stand that on her conscience forever,
she'll have to confess sooner or later, the burden is more than any
woman or man can bear," she said.
"She may have done it," said Picton. "Her punishment must already be
great if she did."
"If I were Mr. Hector, I'd seek her out and make her own up to it,"
she said.
"That's all very well, but you may be mistaken. In any case it is
in Hector's hands, and he will not allow any one to interfere," said
Picton.