Meanwhile Winifred was in sore trouble at The Downs, for Sir Lester was very ill, and the doctors took a grave view of his case. He caught a chill at Gatwick, and the cold which followed, being neglected, as such ailments often are, congestion of the lungs followed, and he was now fighting for his life.
At times he was unconscious, and Winifred, almost worn out with watching, sometimes thought he had gone, so still and quiet he lay.
The crisis came at last, and he pulled through, but she felt she would never forget that time of anxiety, almost of despair.
Sir Lester knew what she had done for him, all she had gone through, and her drawn white face showed how she had suffered.
"If it had not been for your daughter, I believe we should have lost you, Sir Lester," said his favourite doctor. "She worked day and night, and orders given were attended to with even more promptitude than in a hospital. She is a wonderful girl, and you are right in being proud of her."
During his days of convalescence Sir Lester found in Winifred a constant companion who never failed to interest and amuse him.
He thought she deserved every happiness this life could give, and knowing what was dearest to her heart, he longed for Jack Redland to come home. He cared not now whether he returned rich or poor; in any case he would offer no opposition, and as Winifred was his only child, there would be sufficient for them when he was gone, and he could look after them during his lifetime.
He had great faith in Jack, and something told him he was prospering, and that when he came home it would not be with empty hands. Winifred guessed his thoughts, and was happy. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she was soon her light-hearted merry self again, although his illness had made a deep impression upon her that would never be effaced. It is in times of sickness and sore distress that the best feelings in our natures are roused. There is the need to act, the necessity for self-denial, duties to be done that cannot be evaded, annoyances that will not be thrust aside. There must be no putting off for to-morrow what can be done to-day, for delay means death maybe, and that ends all in this life.
Sir Lester's illness put the finishing touch to Winifred's womanhood; it brought her to maturity; it roused in her the feelings of maternity, which reliance upon herself always brings to a woman. Her father had been as helpless as a child, and she had nursed him, attended to his every want, anticipated his unspoken wishes, ministered to his pain, and did all that a brave woman knows so well how to do in battling with death, in peace or in war.
She felt the change in herself, but did not quite understand it. Something had been given to her that she lacked before, and it was very wonderful, strangely beautiful and satisfying. She was as gay and light-hearted as ever, but there was more depth in her, a firmness she had hitherto lacked possessed her, and she felt better able to grapple with the world.
Sir Lester was amused. He noticed all these traits and knew the little girl he so fondly loved had developed into a very beautiful woman. He had watched her grow year by year, and hungrily begrudged the advancing age which must make her less reliant upon him. Man-like, he wanted her to be solely dependent upon him, and yet now the time was come, when she was a woman, he loved her better than ever. What a prize she would prove to Jack Redland; he thought of no other man in connection with her: the mere idea seemed desecration. Had he been glad when Jack went away? He doubted it. Relief was the feeling he experienced. And he would again feel it on his return.
Roaming about the country lanes one day, Winifred chanced to linger on the spot where she had last seen Jack turn and wave his farewell. Was it a chance she came there? She tried to convince herself such was the case, but it proved a failure, for she knew she had deliberately walked in that direction.
Was it by chance that the self-same gypsy woman came along at the time and saw her? Probably it was, for she seldom wandered that way. The woman hesitated, and then approached. She knew it was Winifred Dyke, and was aware that Sir Lester disliked liked her and all her tribe. She had not forgotten the handsome young man she had met not far away some year or two before, and something told her there was a connecting link between them. They are wonderfully shrewd, the women of her class, and have a marvellous way of putting things together and weaving elegant and generally acceptable little romances therefrom.
Winifred started when she saw her, and at once it flashed across her mind that this might be the same woman Jack had told her about. The thought interested her strangely. If this were the woman then she had much to do with Jack's going away, ridiculous though it appeared.
"May I look at your hand?" said the gypsy, as though it was the most natural request in the world.
Winifred smiled as she held it out and said—
"If it will give you any satisfaction."
"It is not for my satisfaction, but for your own."
She examined her hand closely, it was beautiful, well shaped, and daintily pink.
"You have had trouble."
Winifred started; then she thought, "She knows who I am, and that my father has been ill; how absurd of me."
"You are happy again. There will be no more clouds. There is someone coming from across the seas. He is a good man and generous. Strange, very strange!"
"What is strange?" asked Winifred.
"There is much money coming to you. See, look at that mark."
There was a tiny line on her hand, and as Winifred looked at it the mark seemed to grow larger.
"There is great wealth, it increases. Look, the line is quite clear now," said the gypsy excitedly.
"It has become clearer because I extended my hand," said Winifred, interested in spite of herself.
"That is not the cause. Only once before have I seen this sign in a woman's hand, and she became a great lady."
Winifred laughed merrily as she replied—
"I am afraid I shall never be a very great lady."
The gypsy curtsied as she answered—
"You are a very beautiful lady, and beauty is greatness."
Then taking Winifred's hand in her own brown one she said—
"You will have good news when you return home—a letter from across the seas."
"When?" asked Winifred.
"To-night, or to-morrow; it is very near."
"I hope so."
"And there will be pleasure for you in it—a surprise; something I do not quite understand."
"Then you cannot tell me the contents of my supposed letter," said Winifred banteringly.
"No; that is hidden from me; but the writer loves you, as many will love you and fail, all but one."
"And what of him?" asked Winifred softly.
She knew it was all nonsense, but it was very sweet foolery and she loved to hear it.
"He is a man who will prove worthy of you, and your life will be full of happiness. I wonder if he is the brave gentleman who helped me a year or two ago, when I saw him not very far from here. I had a sick child, and he gave me all the money he had with him and walked back to Brighton. He was a noble man, worthy of a great love."
Winifred coloured as she said—
"I heard about it; he told me before he went to Australia."
"Then it is the same?" said the woman. "May God bless you both."
Winifred offered her money, and the gypsy eyed it greedily, but shook her head and said—
"No, kind lady, I do not want money for what I have told you."
"But you have a little boy; take it for him."
"Yes, I will take it for him."
Winifred changed her mind, and gave her half a sovereign. The woman's gratitude was unbounded and she showered many blessings on Winifred's head as she went on her way.
Winifred remained standing on the spot looking after her. She wondered if Jack would really come back with the fortune he said he went out to make. It mattered little to her whether he was rich or poor, but she wished him to succeed, and knew how he felt about it.
As she walked slowly home she revolved in her mind all that had taken place since he left. How lonely she had been at first, her old playmate gone, and no prospect of seeing him for some years. She knew she loved him when he had acted under that sudden impulse and taken her in his arms and kissed her. The memory of that embrace was very dear to her. Gradually as she became accustomed to his absence she grew to love him more and more. He was constantly in her thoughts; she wondered where he was, what he was doing. She listened eagerly to Captain Seagrave's account of the voyage, and could have hugged the rough old seaman when he praised Jack up to the skies. The arrival of his first letter was a great event. She read it again and again; it opened up to her a new field of thought, and she wrote him glowing epistles of their doings at The Downs. She knew even trivial things would interest him because she wrote of them, and they told of the dear old country where they had spent so many happy hours together. There were no words of love in her letters; she would not write them, but he would understand, and she meant to leave him perfectly free. The mere thought of Jack falling in love with some other girl sent her into a cold shiver, but she quickly smiled and reassured herself when she thought of that kiss. Then came more letters, and she gloated over his wonderful adventures and pictured him fighting hordes of terrible savages, and diving to the bottom of the sea for pearls. Her father laughed at her, and said that on the whole he fancied Jack was having a very good time, and was far more likely to be dancing with native beauties in scanty costumes than battling with blacks, at which assertion she was highly indignant.
When she entered the house Sir Lester said—
"A letter for you, Win, from——"
"Jack!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, I expect so; we have not many friends in Australia."
She thought of the gypsy woman, and how quickly her words had come true.
She opened the letter and read it eagerly, devouring every word before she proclaimed the contents to her father; but he was contented to wait. He knew how much these letters meant to her.
"Well, what news, my girl?" he asked.
"Oh, it's splendid; it sounds too good to be true—too much like a fairy tale."
"Read and I shall understand," he replied smiling.
She read Jack's long letter, telling her of the adventure of the great black pearl, and how he was determined to secure it for her, and bring it home in triumph. It was one of the finest of pearls, and no one was half so worthy of it as she. He had meant it for her the moment he had found it in the shell. Now an "old thief of a pearl dealer had it," but Barry Tuxford said it was safe, and what Barry affirmed was gospel. Then she read about gold discoveries, mining shares, racehorses, and many other things, and finally wound up by saying on her own account that she always knew Jack would be a success, and that he would make a fortune.
"What do you think of him, father?"
"He is a brave fellow, and worthy of my daughter's love."
"How do you know he has it, or that he wants it?" she asked slily.
"There are certain symptoms, Win, I cannot fail to understand, and if Jack does not want my little girl he's about as big a fool as the earth holds," replied Sir Lester laughing.
"A black pearl. Fancy me wearing such a precious thing. I shall be frightened to touch it, after all the adventures it has passed through."
"You have not got it yet."
"But Jack says he will get it for me, and that is quite sufficient."
"His friend, Barry Tuxford, must be an extraordinary man. I should like to meet him," said Sir Lester.
"And so should I, to thank him for all he has done for Jack."
"Send him a special message in your next letter. He deserves a page to himself," said her father.
"And he shall have it; a whole page," said Winifred.
The trial had taken place, and Lucky Boy beat Black Boy and two others easily, much to the surprise of Joel Kenley, who could not understand it. On this form Lucky Boy's victory at Rosehill could not have been such a fluke after all.
Jack saw the trial and was puzzled. He had ridden both horses in their work and had a decided preference for Black Boy. On more than one occasion he had galloped with Lucky Boy and beaten him, and yet there was no mistaking the way in which Barry's horse won the trial.
He thought the matter over and came to the conclusion that there must be some mistake, and hinted as much to Joel, who laughed and said there could be no error, because both horses were ridden out, and they carried level weights.
"We ought to have another trial," said Jack.
"I do not advise it. The Cup race takes place next week and both horses are fit. If you take my advice you will back them both and the odds against Black Boy are very tempting. A hundred to three means a big win for a small outlay, and as you can also obtain a hundred to eight about Lucky Boy there is no cause to complain about the tightness of the market."
"They are liberal prices," said Jack, "but not excessive on the form."
Abe Moss was determined to be on the right one of Joel Kenley's pair for the Sydney Cup, and as he knew exactly what Black Boy was capable of he thought after the trial that Lucky Boy held a splendid winning chance. Abe, however, seldom gave anyone credit for acting straightforwardly, and when Lucky Boy won the trial he had doubts about the genuineness of the gallop.
One evening he met Bricky Smiles in Adams' Bar, in Pitt Street. Bricky knew him, and saw no reason to avoid him. Moss seized the opportunity and commenced operations by standing drinks. He knew Bricky's failing, the old jockey took considerably more than was good for him at times, many people in more exalted positions do the same, but they hide it more effectually.
A couple of glasses of whisky and soda loosened Bricky's tongue, and he talked volubly. Gradually Abe Moss led him on to the subject he desired, but the moment he hinted at anything connected with Kenley's stable Bricky became reserved.
"He's not primed sufficiently," thought Moss, and called for more liquor.
They sat down and Moss said—
"If you'll do me a favour, Bricky, I'll make it worth your while."
"Depends upon what it is," he replied.
"There's no harm in it. I merely wish to know your opinion about a couple of horses."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Which horses?"
"Lucky Boy and Black Boy."
Bricky laughed as he replied—
"I fancy you know as much as I do about them, perhaps more, especially about Black Boy."
"Was that a straight go the other morning, when Lucky Boy won?" asked Abe.
"You know Joel Kenley, and that ought to be sufficient. The trial was straight enough."
"Then you think Lucky Boy is the better of the pair?"
"He must be on that form, and the market tells the same tale," replied Bricky.
"I don't care a hang for the market, figures can be faked anyhow. You have not told me your opinion. Come, I'll give you a couple of sovs. for it, that's a professional fee."
Bricky thought there was no harm in expressing his private opinion, it would not be betraying any stable secrets, for it was well known that Joel Kenley preferred Lucky Boy. A couple of sovs. under such circumstances were not to be despised.
"I can only go by the trial," he said. "That is the safest guide, but if you want to know which of the pair is my favourite I may tell you it's Black Boy. Don't run away with the idea that he'll beat the other fellow in the Cup, although I would like to see him do it, Joel knows more about it than I do."
"You have not told me much," said Abe, "but here's a couple of sovs. You really prefer Black Boy to Lucky Boy?"
"As a horse, yes, but whether he will beat him in the Sydney Cup remains to be seen."
"Which shall you back?"
"I have no money to back horses with," said Bricky.
"You had plenty at one time."
"I had and did it on like a fool. I daresay you had some of it."
Abe Moss laughed, he thought this probable, as he had an interest in one or two books and had often played cards and billiards with Bricky.
Jack Redland went into Tattersalls' Club frequently, and was very popular with the members. They recognised him as a good sportsman and readily acknowledged he was a cut above the general run of racing men. Considerable interest was manifested as to which horse out of Kenley's stable he would back, and when he accepted several big wagers about Black Boy at a thousand to thirty there was a disposition to follow his lead. As a natural consequence, Lucky Boy dropped in the quotations, but when Jack snapped up a tempting offer at the extended odds he speedily recovered. There was nothing sensational about these transactions, and when one or two questions were asked he merely replied that he was backing Lucky Boy for Barry Tuxford, and Black Boy for himself.
"We may divide the spoil if either horse wins," he added, laughing.
This was feasible enough, the horses were in different ownerships, and would therefore run independently, but for all this there was an air of uncertainty about it.
If Lucky Boy was the better horse, why had Barry Tuxford cleared out instead of remaining to see his colours carried to victory. It must be very important business to take him away at such a time.
Joel Kenley secured two reliable middle-weights to ride the horses. Andy Wilson was to have the mount on Lucky Boy, Will Sleath was to ride Jack's horse. There was not much to chose between the pair; if anything, Wilson had a larger number of followers. They had ridden the horses at exercise and each jockey fancied his mount, so that a rivalry, quite friendly, existed between them, as to which would prove the better of the two in the Cup.
They were talking it over the night before the race, and eventually decided to make a wager of five pounds aside, each jockey backing his own mount. They were not sanguine of success, as there were many good horses in the race, including three or four cracks from Melbourne.
Jack Redland was exceedingly anxious. Sleath was to wear Sir Lester's jacket, which he had brought out from home, and in which he had ridden Topsy Turvy to victory at Lewes. He impressed upon the jockey that there was a halo of romance hanging about the jacket and that he must strain every nerve to win.
As he looked at the brilliant orange sleeves, and the dark body, he thought of the last time he had worn it and wondered how everything was going with Winifred and Sir Lester. Somehow he felt sanguine of victory, and if Black Boy won he determined to cable to Sir Lester, who would be delighted to receive the news. He wished Barry Tuxford could be present to see the race and judge for himself as to Lucky Boy's running if he was beaten. Not that Barry would doubt anyone, he was too honest for that, but Jack felt it would be a disappointment to him if his horse lost.
It was also an anxious time for Joel Kenley, who had several horses running at the meeting. The trainer was still puzzled as to the merits of "the two boys", as he called the horses. Common sense told him Lucky Boy ought to beat Black Boy, and yet he could not drive away the idea that Jack's horse would beat him, if not actually win.
As he went round the boxes the night before the race, he found Bricky looking earnestly at Black Boy.
"Anything the matter?" asked Joel.
"No, sir. He never was better. He's as hard as nails and fit to run any distance."
"You seemed a trifle anxious about something."
"I was wondering how much he'd win the Cup by," said Bricky, without a smile.
Joel Kenley laughed as he replied—
"Then you are sure he will win, and it is only a question as to how far the others will be beaten. What makes you think he will beat Lucky Boy?"
"I don't know, a kind of presentiment, one of those things a fellow can't understand. I'm sure he is a better horse than the other fellow."
Joel Kenley seldom talked with his lads, but he knew Bricky had a wide experience and had ridden and looked after all sorts of horses, so he spoke to him with more freedom than usual.
"What about the trial? Lucky Boy won that easily."
"That's true, too easily I thought, he'd never do it again. It reminded me of a trial I once rode for Mr. Mason, at Eagle Farm, Brisbane."
"What was there curious about it?" asked Joel.
"There were two horses in his stable, same as it is here, and one of them won a trial with any amount to spare. They backed him for a heap of money, put the other horse in to make the running, which he did, for he was never caught, and won the race almost as easily as his stable mate did the trial. I rode the favourite, and I also rode him in the trial. In the race he would not try a yard and there was a regular row about it. Most people blamed me, but Mr. Mason stood by me and said he'd have another trial. We had, and dash me if my fellow didn't win again easily, and I rode him. Well, about a month after we took him to Gympie, backed him heavily, and he ran nearly last. The other horse, that he beat in the trial, we took to Rockhampton, and beggar me if he didn't win easily, fairly smothering the Gympie winner. What do you make of that?"
"One horse must have been a rogue in a race, but would do his best at home," said Joel.
"Quite so, and I have an idea that will be the case here."
"You may be right, but we have no occasion to think Lucky Boy lacks courage, he ran a good race at Rosehill."
Bricky shook his head and smiled as he said—
"I can't give any reasons, sir, but to-morrow my bit for the Cup goes on this fellow."
"It will be a surprise for a lot of people if he wins."
"It's good for 'em to be surprised sometimes," said Bricky.
Jack Redland called at the trainer's the same night, and Joel told him what Bricky had said.
"It's curious," said Jack, "but I cannot get it out of my head about Black Boy, I feel sure he will run well and beat Barry's horse."
"Have you heard from Mr. Tuxford?" asked the trainer.
"No, he has hardly had time to write."
"He must be a long way from here?"
"He is," replied Jack, smiling, and the trainer said—
"It is no use trying to trap you."
"Not a bit," said Jack.
"He has left everything in our hands," said the trainer, "but it would be far more satisfactory if he were here, or even if we could communicate with him."
"I am afraid that also is impossible. A telegram would not reach him, besides what is there to wire about?"
"Nothing, when you come to think of it," answered Joel.
"We must give orders for both horses to be ridden out, and then we shall discover which is really the better of the pair. I confess the solution of that question interests me as much as the result of the race itself."
"And so it does me, and I am not at all sure, Mr. Redland, that the second string will not win," replied the trainer.
It was a brilliant scene on the beautiful Randwick course on Cup Day, and Jack Redland, as he looked round, thought it compared more than favourably with anything of the kind he had seen in the old country. He knew it was to be a day of excitement, and he heartily wished he had some friend to share it with him. Sometimes our desires are gratified in a strangely sudden manner, and so it chanced to be with him.
As he looked at the moving mass of people in the ring at the rear of the Stewards' Stand, he saw a burly figure that seemed strangely familiar. At first he did not recognise it, but as the man moved nearer, he gave an exclamation of delighted surprise, for it was his old friend Captain Seagrave, who in some extraordinary way had turned up at this opportune moment.
Jack darted down the steps of the stand and hustled his way through the crowd, not stopping to answer numerous heated inquiries as to where he was "pushing people."
He caught Captain Seagrave by the arm, and the astonished sailor gasped as he looked at him.
"Of all the blessed experiences I ever had, this beats all," said Job, as he gave his hand a hearty shake. "Where on earth have you sprung from?"
"I ought to ask that question," replied Jack, laughing. "What brings you here?"
"Come under the trees and sit down, and I'll tell you."
They went towards a shady seat, and then Job Seagrave said—
"It does me good to see you. I've a heap of things to tell you. I saw Sir Lester and his daughter last trip and they have sent no end of messages, especially the young lady. Lucky dog, that's what you are."
Jack forgot all about the races for the time being, so absorbed was he in listening to the Captain.
"I'll leave all the good things they said until later on," went on Job. "I only arrived here late last night. I've got a new craft, a real tip top steamer. I've chucked over the old firm, they treated me badly. I'm skipper of the "Falcon," and a right down good steamer she is. I never expected to see you here. Knowing the Sydney Cup was run for to-day, I thought I'd come and see it. Lucky we arrived just in time. I don't know a blessed horse that is running in the race."
These remarks brought Jack's thoughts back to the business in hand. They had been talking for some time, and Joel Kenley was hunting all over the paddock for Jack. At last he spotted him and went hurriedly across.
Jack saw him coming and went to meet him.
"I have been looking for you this half hour," said the trainer. "It is almost time for saddling up, will you come and see the horses put to rights?"
Jack beckoned Captain Seagrave, and introduced him to the trainer, remarking that he was the brother of Caleb Kenley, of Lewes.
"Proud to meet you," said Job, "I know your brother, saw him when I was in England last voyage."
"We have no time to talk now," said Jack, smiling. "There is a lot to be done. Come and see the horses saddled, Captain."
"Whose horses?"
"Our's—mine and Barry's."
"Is he here?"
"No, worse luck."
"What races are they in?"
"The Sydney Cup," replied Jack.
"Both of them?"
"Yes."
"Well, this is a go, and which of 'em is going to win? Do you ride?"
Jack and the trainer laughed heartily, and the former explained the situation to Joel, who was thanking his lucky star that the "Falcon" had arrived in time for him to be present.
Lucky Boy was saddled first, then Black Boy, and quite a crowd gathered round the pair, for Joel Kenley's horses always attracted attention, his stable was generally dangerous.
Black Boy was quiet, but his stable mate was restless, and lashed out freely.
"Which do you like best?" asked Jack.
"I'm not much of a judge, but I prefer this one," replied the Captain, pointing to Jack's horse.
"The other one is the better favourite, but I rather fancy mine will beat him."
"What does the trainer think?"
"He's in a bit of a fix. Lucky Boy won the trial, and yet we all seem to fancy the other one."
"Then he carries my money," said Job. "What odds can I get?"
"About twenty to one," replied Jack.
"That beats Topsy Turvy," said Job. "I'll have a fiver on."
Jack laughed, and advised him to do his speculating at once, and he would wait for him.
The jockeys came up and mounted, and by this time the interest in the race had risen to fever heat.
Mentone, a Melbourne trained horse, is favourite, and the opinion was that he had been leniently treated, in fact, was the pick of the handicap. A strong contingent of visitors from the Victorian capital had come over to back him, and were confident of success.
Escort, Tramp, Hiram, and the Dancer, were all more or less fancied.
Captain Seagrave had no difficulty in obtaining a hundred to five about Black Boy, a wager he was more than satisfied with.
"If it pans out as well as that race you rode in at Lewes it will be grand," he said. "I wish Sam Slack had come with me."
"Is Sam in the 'Falcon' with you?" asked Jack.
"Yes, and so is Mac and most of the other boys. They'll be glad to see you again."
The horses were now moving out on to the track, and Job caught sight of the colours on Black Boy.
"He's running in Sir Lester's colours," said Job, in some surprise.
"And it is the same jacket I wore when I won on Topsy Turvy," said Jack. "Sir Lester gave it me."
"Then I'm hanged if I don't have another bit on," said Job, and this time he only secured a hundred to seven.
Jack laughed at his enthusiasm, and said—
"You had better have a pound or two on Lucky Boy as a saver, they will both do their best to win."
"No more," said Job, "I'll stand or fall by the old colours."
The stands were packed, and the people stood on the lawn, and leaned over the railings in dense masses.
Mentone was cheered as he galloped to the starting post, and the horse looked a perfect picture. Black Boy moved sluggishly, but Lucky Boy went past at a great pace, pulling his jockey out of the saddle, eager for the race.
"Too flash," said Job; "Give me the other fellow, he's steady and sure."
"I daresay you are right," replied Jack.
There was no more time for conversation, as the horses were quickly despatched on their journey, and the bright green jacket of Escort was easily distinguishable in front. The horse had a light weight, and a clever lad rode him. With a clean lead of several lengths, he brought the field along, his nearest attendants being Hiram, Tramp, and Maximus. Bunched together in the centre were the favourite, and Kenley's pair with the remainder of the field, well up.
As they passed the stand, Escort led at a great pace, almost overstriding himself, and his tiny jockey had no easy task to hold him.
There was some bumping as they swept round the bend and past Oxenham's, but nothing was seriously interfered with.
Along the track, Escort still led, but the others were gradually drawing up, and it was easy to see that by the time the sheds were reached, he would be caught.
Jack watched the black jacket and orange sleeves closely and also the cherry and white on Lucky Boy, who seemed to be going in splendid form, and fully bearing out his trial. So far Barry's horse clearly outpaced Black Boy, and Jack commenced to think he would win. He would have been almost as pleased to see Barry's colours successful as his own.
Job made no remark. He stood watching the race with a stolid face, and no one would have thought he was in a fever of excitement. A good race agitated him far more than a storm at sea.
They were nearing the turn for home, and Mentone was rapidly working his way round on the outside. The favourite seemed to have no difficulty in passing the leaders, and as they entered the straight, he was close up to Tramp, who held the lead.
Lucky Boy shot his bolt soon after they headed for home, and his collapse was a surprise to Joel Kenley, who fancied he would be sure to stay it out.
Bricky Smiles was watching the race from the trainer's stand, and when he saw Lucky Boy was beaten, he was glad his modest investment was on his favourite.
As they neared the first stand, Mentone looked to have the race well in hand. He was going easily and his jockey had made no call upon him; he had no intention of doing so if it could be avoided, for the horse had a decided objection to being pressed. His instructions were to get to the front as soon as they entered the straight and make the best of his way home, no matter whether it was a long run in or otherwise.
"Don't hit him if you can help it," said the trainer, "but, of course, if it comes to a pinch you must."
Will Sleath saw the favourite forging ahead, and also noticed Lucky Boy fall back.
"It all depends on me," he thought; "Andy has no chance."
Black Boy was a horse that could gallop at a steady pace almost any distance, but he lacked that sharp burst of speed which comes in so handy at the finish. Will Sleath knew his mount well, and had no hesitation in making the most of him in any part of the race. The rider of Mentone had been deceived as to the pace they were going, because Black Boy had been galloping alongside him, and he knew the horse was a "plodder." When he made his run round the home turn with Mentone, it took a good deal out of the favourite, more than he knew of. Sleath sent Black Boy along at his top, and together with Hiram and the Dancer, drew level with Tramp, who was soon beaten.
Mentone was sailing along comfortably in front, his backers being on excellent terms with themselves, and already the cheering which heralds the anticipated victory of a favourite were heard.
"It's all over," said Jack. "We're beaten, Job."
The Captain made no remark, he was too intent upon watching the black and orange jacket as it came creeping along.
Slowly but surely Black Boy made up his ground, and Hiram stuck close to him, yet it seemed almost impossible they would get on terms with the leader.
Will Sleath looked ahead and saw the judge's box very near: if only Black Boy could put on a spurt he had no doubt what would be the result. This was unfortunately what Black Boy could not do, for he was already at his top, and his jockey did not ask him to go faster.
Mentone was tiring, and his rider was aware of it, but he thought the commanding lead he held would carry him safely through.
It was a case of the favourite stopping and Black Boy plodding on. The exciting question was would Mentone fall back sufficiently to allow of Jack's horse getting up.
The crowd commenced to realise what was taking place, and there was a dead silence.
Jack felt his pulses tingle, and his blood seemed on fire. Being an accomplished rider, he knew exactly how matters stood, and he hoped almost against hope that Black Boy would just get up in time.
The black and orange was very near now, not more than a length away, and Mentone's jockey realising the danger raised his whip. In response the horse made a feeble effort which was not sustained, and a terrific shout burst from the crowd as Black Boy got on level terms.
For a second the pair struggled together, then Black Boy outstayed the favourite, and the black and orange jacket of Sir Lester Dyke was carried first past the post in a memorable Sydney Cup.
The victory of Black Boy was not very well received, although no blame was attached to either owner or trainer. The horse's previous running showed he had very little chance of carrying off such a race as the Sydney Cup.
Jack Redland won a large sum, and half of this was to go to Barry Tuxford. Job Seagrave landed a couple of hundred pounds, and was jubilant.
The stewards could not let the previous running of Black Boy pass unchallenged, and called Abe Moss before them to give an explanation of the horse's performances during the time he owned him. Abe made some blundering excuses, which only half satisfied the stewards, and wound up by saying he had backed Lucky Boy in the Cup, as he did not consider the winner good enough. This was perfectly correct, and probably thinking he had been sufficiently punished by losing his money, the stewards gave him a severe caution, and warned him to be careful how he acted in the future.
Jack was naturally anxious to hear from Barry Tuxford, but there was nothing for it but to wait patiently until he communicated with him.
He lost no time in paying a visit to the "Falcon" and renewing his acquaintance with his old friends of the "Golden Land." Sam Slack and Rufus Macdonald gave him a hearty welcome, and the latter said the skipper was a "canny mon" to land the "Falcon" in port in time to back Black Boy in the Cup. "It's a pity we were not there," he said.
Jack dined with them on board, and they spent several merry evenings together, until the time came for the "Falcon" to commence her homeward voyage.
Captain Seagrave willingly took charge of several parcels Jack wished to send to Winifred and Sir Lester, he also entrusted to Job a splendid photograph of Black Boy, with Sleath in the saddle, and the black and orange colours up.
When the "Falcon" left the harbour Jack felt more lonely than he had ever done since he landed in Australia, and it was with a feeling of intense relief he received a letter from Barry Tuxford some weeks after Black Boy had won the Cup.
Barry wrote in high spirits, he had nothing but good news to tell. His man had not exaggerated in the least, and he reckoned their claims would be about the richest in Western Australia.
"The country, as you may expect, is infernal," wrote Barry, "not fit for a civilised white man to live in, but where gold is to be found there do the people flock together, and it was not long before they were on my track after the first gold went on to the Great Tom township, and the Warden had granted our claims. You have never been in a gold rush and I hope you never will. It is hell let loose, every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost. All the worst features of the human race come to the surface; if a man has any of the leven of unrighteousness in him it's bound to ooze out in a big lump. I have seen some very choice collections of blackguards in my time but I never set eyes on such a crew as we have had up here at Bundoola Creek. They are the scum of the earth, and although there are some good fellows amongst them, the majority ought to be in gaol. You know me fairly well, and that I am not easily staggered, but I tell you candidly when I looked round on the crew that rushed the Creek I felt a trifle uncomfortable. We had secured the best claims, and the fellows knew it, and this raised their ire. They saw there was gold on our pitches to be had almost for the asking, and they wanted some of it. I was equally determined they should not have it. I took with me, from the township, a dozen men I could depend upon, and to make doubly sure of them I gave them a hint where to peg out their ground. This gave them an interest in the concern and as they were all well armed the rogues and vagabonds would have had a rough time of it had they ventured to interfere with us. Things have settled down a bit now, and as there is plenty for all I see no reason why the peace should not be kept.
"As for the claims, I have called one the 'Redland,' and the other the 'Barry Tuxford,' so we stand a good chance of becoming famous all the world over, for sure as fate these will be big concerns. I have just heard Black Boy won the Sydney Cup, and you cannot think how delighted I am. For a middle aged man I acted in a most absurd way. I danced around the camp like a wild man, and my pals thought the heat had affected my brain. When I explained what had occurred they understood, they are all good sports. What a triumph, Jack, and what an awful scoundrel Abe Moss must be. I don't know how my horse ran, and don't much care, now you won. If Joel Kenley thinks Lucky Boy will win a race let him keep him in training, if not, sell him for what he will bring. Thank him for all he has done for us, and give him a bonus of a hundred pounds as a slight token of my regard. There is no secrecy now about my movements, and you may tell anyone you like where I am, and what has happened, providing they do not already know.
"Come back to Fremantle as soon as you feel inclined, as I have a lot to say to you about our future prospects. I advise you to leave Black Boy with Kenley, or sell him if you think it best. I shall be glad to see you again; you cannot understand how I miss you. Have had no news of the pearling fleet, but expect they will be back soon. By the way, the only bit of inferior news I have is that old Silas Filey has gone on a trip to Shark's Bay. What the deuce takes the old fellow to that outlandish place I do not know, but he has taken the black pearl with him or else hidden it somewhere. Wait until he comes back and if he does not give it up, I'll throttle the life out of him. Another item of news. I saw that black thief, Kylis, in Fremantle, and he is in funds. Where he got the money from the Lord knows; but he had the cheek to ask me to assist him in fitting out a schooner. He said he had over a hundred pounds, and would I advance him the rest. As we were not near the harbour, or the river, I had no opportunity of pitching him into the water, but he evidently understood the meaning of my language and cleared off with a rapidity seldom seen in the black race. You need not trouble about the pearl, Silas is sure to have it safe, and I will get it when he returns."
Jack Redland went to Joel Kenley's, taking the letter with him, and read it to the trainer.
"Now you will understand why I could not tell you where he had gone," said Jack, as he finished Barry's epistle.
"You were perfectly right to keep everything to yourself," replied Joel. "It is very good of him to send me a hundred pounds."
"You deserve that and more, and I hope you will not refuse if I offer you another hundred to match it."
"I shall not refuse," replied Joel, "for I know the spirit in which it is offered."
"Will you take charge of the horses while I am away?" asked Jack. "I leave for Fremantle by the next boat."
"Willingly; they are both worth keeping in training, and will pay their way."
"You must run them when you like," said Jack. "Please use them as though they were your own, and I will leave a couple of hundred pounds to your credit to back them with."
"I will do my best," said Joel, who appreciated the confidence placed in him.
Bricky came in for his share of the plums, and found himself in possession of a far larger sum than he had been accustomed to handle of late years. Fred Manns, the head lad, had no cause to grumble, nor had either of the jockeys who rode "the two boys."
"I told you he was a good sort," said Bricky.
"He is," replied Fred Manns, "one of the very best."
It was now public property in Sydney that Barry Tuxford had left suddenly to claim the best part of the Bundoola Creek Mines, and Jack Redland was congratulated on all sides at being the partner of such a successful man.
"I am not his partner," said Jack, "at least I have put no money into these claims."
"He's called one claim after you, and another after himself, so there can be no doubt about it," was the reply.
The voyage to Fremantle was tedious to Jack, owing to his impatience to meet Barry, and hear the news from his own lips. At last the steamer entered the harbour and he at once went ashore and straight on to Perth.
Barry was not there, but was expected down in the course of the week, so Jack had to pass the time as best he could. He went back to Fremantle in the hope that he might come across Silas Filey, and had not been long there when he met the black, Kylis. The fellow grinned when he saw him, and Jack felt inclined to knock him down. He smothered his anger and beckoned to him. Kylis sauntered across the road and asked what he wanted.
"Tell me how you stole the black pearl out of my waist-belt," said Jack, quickly, and holding him by the arm.
The black cowed under his angry gaze, and said in a low voice that he would do as he wished, providing no harm came to him.
"No one shall touch you, tell me everything," said Jack.
Kylis told the story of the robbery and of the sale of the pearl to Amos Hooker, also how Hooker parted with it for a hundred pounds to one of Silas Filey's men. He did not say anything about Hooker's death.
All this was interesting to Jack, who wondered at the black's cunning.
"You are a dangerous fellow, Kylis," he said. "Mind and keep out of trouble in future, here's a sovereign for you."
The black took it with many expressions of gratitude, and then walked rapidly away.
At last Barry Tuxford returned to Perth, and after a hearty greeting between them Jack saw he was much altered and that he had suffered a good deal in health. He was not the same lively Barry Tuxford who had left him in Sydney, and Jack was troubled.
"You are ill, Barry," he said, anxiously. "You have overworked yourself, you must rest and have a doctor to see you at once."
"I'm all right, Jack," he said, faintly, "a bit knocked up, that's all; I shall soon get over it, but I've had a hard job, a precious hard job."
Barry Tuxford was seriously ill, and when the doctor saw him he said that complete rest and change was what he required.
"He has a constitution of iron," said the doctor, "or he would have knocked up weeks ago. I warned him of the risk he was running the last time he was here, but when a man has the gold fever on him the fear of death will not stop him. He is your friend, Mr. Redland. From what he has told me I know you have more influence with him than anyone, you must make him give all this up for a time. Take him to England for a trip, the voyage will do him more good than all the medicine I can give him. Once you get him safely out to sea he cannot give you the slip, but he'll do it here if you do not watch him closely. I never met such a man before, he's all activity, and his courage is marvellous."
"Is he in any danger?" asked Jack.
"No, not at present, but if this sort of work goes on I will not be answerable for his health, or life. Do as I advise you, get him away from it all. Make him go, he has plenty of money and it will be of no use to him if he loses his health."
"I will do my best," said Jack. "He has promised to go to England with me when I return, and although I did not mean to go back for a year or two, I will tell him I have decided to take the trip as soon as possible."
"That's splendid," said the doctor. "If Barry has given you his promise he will keep it; I never knew him break his word."
"Barry, I must have a serious talk with you," said Jack.
"All serene, fire away. That blessed doctor has been at you, I can see it in your face," he replied with a smile.
"You are ill, it is no use trying to hide it. Because you have never been laid up before you fancy it will go on all right till the end of time, but it won't. You must rest. All your life you have been a hard worker, and now you are run down."
"How the deuce can I rest with these mines on our hands? It is too good a thing to leave go of now we have got the grip. Wait until I have settled this business and then I am your man."
"How long will it take?" asked Jack.
"Perhaps one year, perhaps two, it may be longer."
"And before then it will not matter to you whether you are rich or poor, money will be of no use to you."
"What do you mean?"
"What I say, money is of no use to a dead man."
Barry started and his face went a shade paler.
"Doctors are fools," he said.
"Patients who disobey their orders can be placed in that category," said Jack.
"But I cannot give this thing up yet, Jack, it's not fair either to you or me."
"Then it will give you up, and as for myself I would sooner have to start fresh than see any harm befall you."
Barry's face softened. Seldom in his tumultuous life had he heard a friend speak in this strain.
"I have a suggestion to make," said Jack. "Float the claims into a company. We can get as much as we want out of the concern in cash and hold the bulk of the shares. A responsible manager can look after things and take all the responsibility off your shoulders."
Barry laughed as he replied—
"That means allowing others to reap what we have sown."
"To get in some portion of the crop, I acknowledge," replied Jack, "but the bulk of the harvest will be ours."
"And supposing I agree, what shall we do?"
"Go to England. You promised to take a trip with me when I returned, and I know you will keep your promise. Moreover, in the event of a certain interesting ceremony taking place you promised to be best man. You cannot back down, and I am going home as soon as I can fix things up here."
Jack suddenly thought of the letter he had recently received with Winifred's message to Barry. He had it in his pocket-book, and taking it out handed it to Barry, saying—
"I am sure you will not refuse when you have read it."
Winifred's message was couched in terms she knew well how to use in conveying thanks to such a man and it also gave a cordial invitation from Sir Lester to visit The Downs, if ever he came to England.
"She's a real downright stunner," said Barry. "A splendid girl, there are not many like her."
"They are few and far between," answered Jack, proudly. "You cannot refuse now."
"It's a plot," said Barry, "to carry me off. Jack, you are a brigand chief."
"And your ransom will be a large one, once I get you in my clutches," he replied, laughing.
Eventually Barry agreed to accompany Jack Redland home, but he stipulated that they must not start until everything was in working order.
"We must leave nothing to chance," he said, "there is too much at stake."
About a month later the pearling schooners arrived at Fremantle, and Harry Marton reported a prosperous trip. He was pleased beyond measure to meet Jack again and to hear of his good fortune. There was much to tell on both sides, and Harry thoroughly approved of his friend's action in inducing Barry Tuxford to take a holiday.
"Anyone can see he is wearing himself out," said Harry, "and a rest will do him good; I am sure he deserves it."
"And what about yourself?" asked Jack.
"I shall remain here," replied Harry. "I have no ties to draw me home, and I have a bit of news to tell you, Jack."
"What is it?"
"I have asked my little girl to come out and risk matrimony, and she has consented. She's on her way, I believe, with our old friend Captain Seagrave, of the "Falcon."
"Bravo Harry," said Jack. "So you mean to make your home here?"
"Such is my intention, and thanks to our good friend Barry, the future seems assured. He wishes me to act as his general manager, whatever that may mean, and has promised me a share in all his ventures."
"I feel I owe my good fortune to you," said Jack. "I should never have known Barry Tuxford had it not been for you. When does the "Falcon" arrive? Does she come to Fremantle?"
"Yes, and ought to be here, I believe, in a few weeks."
"It would not be a bad idea to go home in her," said Jack.
"I am sure Barry would prefer her to one of the mail boats," replied Harry.
When the result of the pearling expedition was reckoned up, it was found that a profit of several thousand pounds had been made, and Captain Danks, Captain Hake, and Jacob Rank, were satisfied with their work.
Silas Filey turned up in due course from Shark's Bay, bringing the news of the murder of Amos Hooker.
"I'll bet a hundred that black devil, Kylis, did it," said Barry.
"He disappeared from the settlement," said Silas, "and has never returned."
"He's here, in Perth," said Barry.
"Then let him alone, Amos Hooker was a shocking bad lot," said Silas. He then told them by what means he secured the black pearl and expressed a keen desire to buy it.
"It is not for sale," said Barry. "What do you value it at for purposes of division?"
"About two thousand pounds," said Silas.
"Too much," Barry whispered to Jack.
"Not at all," he replied. "I shall be glad to get it at that price, less my share."
Silas handed it over with sundry groans and protestations.
"It'll be wasted, fairly wasted," he moaned. "You don't know where to plant it. I have a customer for it. He's got one black pearl and would give a small fortune for this. Let me have it, and I'll deal fairly with you."
Barry handed it to Jack, saying—
"It is your property, will you let him have it?"
"No," thundered Jack, "and as for it's being wasted, let me tell you, you old humbug, that it will adorn the fairest and best woman in England. My only regret is that you ever polluted it with your touch."
Silas Filey glared at him angrily as he said—
"Hard words, master, I am only a pearl buyer, and it is my business to secure the best I can for my clients. I have done the pearl no harm, and my hands are as clean as most folks."
Jack knew he had spoken hastily and soothed the old man's feelings by saying—
"If ever I want to part with it, Silas, you shall have first refusal."
Silas nodded, but he knew it was a very remote probability.
It took Barry some time to arrange affairs to his satisfaction, and eventually it was decided to float the Redland-Barry Mine in London, as he had had some experience in this line before.
Harry Marton was to be left in sole charge at Perth, with a power of attorney to act, and the pearling was to continue as usual.
The "Falcon" duly arrived at Fremantle, with Agnes Dixon on board, and her wedding with Harry Marton was celebrated, Jack acting as best man, Barry giving a great feast in honour of the occasion. It was generally acknowledged that Mrs. Harry Marton would be a decided acquisition to Perth society.
Captain Seagrave was jubilant when he learned Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford were to be passengers on the homeward voyage.
Jack had not informed Winifred of their intended departure for the old country, as he wished to give her a surprise.
"The shock will be too much for her," said Barry, "you ought to warn her, it's not fair."
The night before they were to sail, Jack sat on the verandah of Barry Tuxford's house thinking over all that had happened during the past few years. Fortune had indeed favoured him, and the words of the gypsy woman had come true. Very few men he knew had done so much, or met with such success in so short a time. His meeting with Harry Marton in London, appeared to him like a direct intervention of Providence in his favour, and then came Barry Tuxford, a crowning blessing upon his career. Jack Redland was grateful for all his good luck, and felt that he ought to be thankful all his life.
It seemed almost impossible that he should be a rich man, and yet such was the case, for when the new mine was floated, many thousands would be at his disposal. He did not pretend to misunderstand Barry Tuxford when he said he regarded him as a son. He knew Barry's wealth was great, and that in all probability he would leave him the bulk of it. He hoped Barry would live for many long years, but in the natural order of things the older man would go first. The voyage would do him good, add many years to his life, the doctor said, and Jack looked forward with pleasure to presenting his generous friend to Sir Lester and Winifred.
His pearl fishing experiences seemed like a dream; it was a rough time, but he did not dislike it, nay, he had enjoyed it while it lasted, but he would not care to go through it again.
The black pearl would always recall those days, when he saw Winifred wearing it.
And Winifred, she was waiting for him, he was sure of that, and yet no words of love had passed between them, no bond bound them to each other. Yes, there was a bond, although not a tie, the bond of unspoken love, and Jack looked forward to the time when he could put his real feelings into words, and pour them into Winifred's willing ears.
How would she look, what would she do when she first saw him? The picture he conjured up was wonderfully pleasant, and he kept it to himself.
The "Falcon" steamed out of Fremantle harbour, and commenced her voyage to England with Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford on board. As Jack looked at the fast receding headlands, he wondered if he would ever see them again. It was hard to say, but the chances were he was leaving Australia for ever. It seemed ungrateful to cast off the country that had done so much for him, and yet his lines were cast in other places, and he could not avoid his fate, a pleasant one, if he would.
Every year, men who have succeeded in life, leave the land in which they have toiled, to come home to that small spot so blessed amongst the nations of the earth. They give of their best to other lands, but take toll in return, and then when the time comes, and Fortune's smiles are at their best they turn to home, to England, which every son of her soil regards with a veneration too deep for words.
Jack Redland felt something of this as the "Falcon" steamed on her way.
He had come to love the land he was leaving behind, but he looked forward with a greater joy to the land that lay beyond the seas. He would never forget the country that gave him fortune, and helped him to gain the dearest wish of his heart—the girl he loved.