A NEWMARKET STORY. 17 



jumps himself into a cab, and is driven away post-haste to the 

 town. The first cab sent is waiting at the baker's door, and 

 Joe, muffled up to the ears, is just about to get into it. The 

 owner of the favourite is reHeved from a terrible dread at the 

 sight of the jockey. 



' Thought I was a-goin' to play you false, sir ?' says Joe, in a 

 harsh voice, as Rupert desires him to get into his cab. 



* Damn it ! if you'd a toothache like all the fires of hell you'd 

 not be in a hurry to loaf about a paddock. I'm your man, sure 

 enough ; and we've a good half-hour to spare.' 



The black-silk handkerchief which encircles Joe's face gives 

 a tacit confirmation of the condition of his molar nerves. He 

 holds his hand to his face frequently, as though suffering acutely. 

 The two men are silent during the short drive. Master and 

 man are both apparently brooding on the same absorbing 

 thought — the day's race. It is only as they approach the Stand 

 that a beautiful young woman — riding a showy chestnut, accom- 

 panied by a cavalier, with whom she coquets gracefully, laughing 

 audibly from time to time at his remarks — attracts both the 

 jockey's and his employer's attention. Mr. Ellis raises his hat, 

 and the lady gives back a familiar little nod and a bewitching 

 smile. Her companion scowls unpleasantly at the cab as it 

 passes them. Joe Dallas, looking over his shoulder, sees the 

 girl touch her lips with the tips of her fingers, and blow an airy 

 kiss to the owner of Satanas. The strong whip which the jockey 

 holds across his knees breaks like a twig in his hands with a 

 sudden snap. 



' What a rotten stick !' he mutters, glancing half-fearfully at 

 his companion. 



As the cab pulls up at the spot indicated the gentleman 

 casually glances at his jockey's face. 



' Why, man alive, what's the matter ? You're as white as 

 death. Do you funk this race ?' 



' You be hanged ! It's this cursed toothache. For God's 

 sake, sir, get me some brandy.' 



Joe in his anguish appeared to forget his manners. There is 

 a degree more of impudence and swagger about Joe's bearing 

 to-day than ordinarily. As Mr. Ellis disappeared, two men, 

 who had come suddenly round the corner, caught sight of the 

 jockey seated in the cab. They started perceptibly, looking 

 at one another in visible perplexity. The neat little figure 

 huddled up in the corner of the vehicle was unmistakable. 



B 



