An Over-reach 329 



years he had ridden his own horses without ever winning 

 a race ; but he Hved in hope, and hope — so often dis- 

 appointed — was doubtless reviving in him now. 



Why does the raw amateur find it so apparently 

 impossible to sit still ? Old Beanfeast was going stiong ; 

 all that was wanted was for Harry to keep him at it 

 with his hands ; but he looked back at Hamlet, did not 

 like what he saw, and up went that fatal w^hip, by the 

 injudicious use of w4iich so many races are thrown 

 away. 



' I knew it ! ' exclaimed Willie Skene, looking on from 

 the Club enclosure. ' He might have just got home if 

 he'd left the old horse alone, and now he's done it 

 again ! ' 



' Poor old boy, I wish he'd given himself a chance. 

 He is so keen, I should love to see him win a race,' 

 Charlie Addington replied. ' What a pretty horseman 

 that brute Tomkins is ! ' 



The comment was justified. Over a country or on 

 the flat there was scarcely a better rider in the ranks 

 of professionals ; and the contrast between him and 

 Montague, who w^as now all over his horse, could not 

 w^ell have been more striking. ' Hit him, sir, hit him ! 

 No, by Jove, he's missed him ! ' was the advice and observa- 

 tion of an onlooker, when just such another rider as Harry 

 Montague was trying to finish one day ; but Harry did 

 get one or two in ! Beanfeast — with his head loose, of 

 course — swerved and scrambled, while Hamlet was 

 gradually but surely catching him. All the same, they 

 were now very near the post, and the second had a full 

 length to make up. An accidental prick from the spur 

 on the near shoulder rather straightened the leader, and 

 rapidly as Hamlet was overhauling him, it looked almost 



