1/4 A Good Thing 



leader, but she ought not to have been behmd at all, 

 especially so near home. Upton strongly disapproved 

 of even so skilful a horseman as Hawke playing with a 

 man — if that were it — who was not likely to make a 

 mistake, even though he might not do anything brilliant ; 

 and there were only two more fences to jump. The 

 mare is closing, however, decidedly. She is scarcely a 

 length behind as they charge the last fence but one ; 

 and York is glancing round nervously. Only one fence 

 more ! They near it almost neck and neck. This is 

 where jockeyship will tell, and the professional horseman 

 will beat the amateur. But no ! York is over first ; the 

 other seems to hesitate a second, and then jumps side- 

 ways. Hawke snatches her round, but Fisherman is a 

 full two lengths to the good, and see ! Hawke gets out 

 his whip. 



' The favourite's beat ! ' ' Here, the field a pony ! ' 

 ' Two to one I name the winner ! ' ' Fisherman's win- 

 ning.' ' Nonsense, Hawke's coming — he's won ! ' 

 ' Come on, Bobby ! Hurrah ! ' ' Hawke'll do him yet ! ' 



* Not he— the other's won ! ' ' Which of 'em is it ? ' 



* Hawke's won ! ' ' Fisherman's won ! ' 



So the confusion of shouts rings from stands and 

 coaches and spectators at the cords. Hawke is riding 

 hard and catching— certainly catching — the leader. 

 York has hit his horse twice, but he puts down his whip, 

 and is riding home with his hands, while Hawke is at it 

 whip and spur, and so, amid a scene of the wildest ex- 

 citement, they pass the post. 



Leigh draws a long breath and looks very pale. 



'The mare's won ! ' he says; 'but it wasn't such a 

 good thing as I thought. Wonderful good race Hawke 

 rode, didn't he ? Deuced close, though, wasn't it ? He 



