"Where did he spring from?" asked Joses, and began to move toward the jockey.
His companion stayed him suddenly.
Billy Bluff, who had evaded the police, and dodged his way into the Paddock, raced up to the jockey and began to squirm about him, half triumphant, half ashamed.
The fat man stopped dead and stared, with his bulging eyes.
"Straight!" he cried, and smote his hands together.
The jockey cut at the dog with his whip, and then the police came up and hunted him back into the road.
At the moment the band struck up the National Anthem, and the Knowsley party, including the King, the American Ambassador, and Lord Milburn, crossed the Paddock swiftly toward Lord Derby's box.
Suddenly the strains of the band were drowned by an immense roar of cheering.
Mocassin was being led into the Paddock.
Nothing could be seen of her. Ikey's Own had formed a close-linked phalanx about her. No Englishman might penetrate that jealous barrier or help to form it. Within its sacred circle the mare was being stripped and saddled.