He was disappointed. The last race was run, and then came the desperate hurrying of departure. Frightened horses were harnessed in great haste, the different members of coaching parties were collected, horns began to blow and whips to crack, and the vast multitude that had been gathering for many hours strove to get away all at once.
At last, the track was left behind, the downs were cleared, and the Clapham Road was reached, where the procession of the forenoon was found moving toward London.
And now the crowd seemed almost riotous. Those who had won on the races were hilarious over their success, and those who had lost shouted and sang, that they might forget their misfortune.
Everybody seemed to have wooden doll-babies stuck in their hatbands, which Frank discovered was a time-honored custom at the Derby. Some had bought hollow tubes and dried peas to blow through the tubes, and they were shooting away at everybody and anybody in a most reckless fashion. Some of the costers had obtained paper caps and false noses, and were playing the part of clowns on their way home. Not a few of them were provided with accordions, from which they pumped all sorts of wheezy tunes. And all along the line the horns were sounding and the whips cracking.
At the public houses the carts were gathered again, but there was very little dancing on the greens. Under the hedges some of the weary and overloaded merrymakers had stowed themselves to rest, and were sleeping soundly, for all of the noise of the passing procession.
It was quite dark when the London asphalt was reached. The street was brightly lighted, and either side was thronged with spectators. Again the beggars were entreating every one to throw out a few “moldy coppers,” and hoping every one had a successful day.
When Frank and the professor reached their lodgings, after taking supper, both were well satisfied to sit down and rest after the events of the day.
“I wouldn’t go through it again for a fortune,” declared the professor, grimly.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” asserted Frank, decidedly.
The landlady came up with their mail. She handed Frank a sealed envelope, which she said had been left at the door by a muffled man less than a minute after the boy entered the house.