PACKS I HAVE HUNTED WITH 35 



with the ever ready R.I.C. coming to the rescue 

 and gradually edging the mobbed and battered man 

 to the stand. Here he ought to have been safe, 

 but was not. The racing crowd, some two thou- 

 sand, are not easy to deal with. Shoulders were 

 bent against the woodwork. Ominous voices 

 thundered that they'd have the man out if they 

 smashed the stand to pieces. 



The woodwork began to crack and bend, and 

 the pleasant prospect of a free fight to protect 

 the unoffending stranger lay in front of the race- 

 goers. 



Crack ! Crack ! 



" The place will be down in two minutes," said 

 someone philosophically. 



" Will it ? " said Captain Delmege piling up 

 boxes until he was enabled to get his head over 

 the palings, to be greeted with a roar. But he 

 could roar too, and was too well known not to gain 

 a hearing. 



" You are all mad," he shouted. " Stop that 

 or you'll never get a licence for a meeting again." 



An ominous but dubious murmur. 



" Is Kiss Katchewan running? " shouted some- 

 one mockingly. 



" She is, you fools," thundered J. O'G. " And 

 she'll win. But if the course is not clear in five 

 minutes /'// send her home ! " 



From howling, bloodthirsty furies the people 

 changed to sportsmen. 



